


tell me, forever

by navree



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Americana, Drama & Romance, High School, Multi, Murder Mystery, Mystery Stories, Rewrite, Teenage Drama, but these are the endgame two and it'll stay that way, characters and ships will be added/subtracted as time goes on, this is also incredibly unbeta'ed so be gentle with me on typos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 39,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28012224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navree/pseuds/navree
Summary: Riverdale is...Jughead's fingers paused over the keys. Riverdale...was Riverdale. The town with pep. Nothing bad ever happened in Riverdale. Nothing happened in Riverdale, period. Nothing at all.Our story is about a town. A small town. And the people who live in the town.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43





	1. through this thick air.

**Author's Note:**

> bear in mind that this will take absolutely nothing from the show beyond the barebones element of "archie comics characters have to solve a mystery and deal with growing up" and maybe certain choices from the earlier episodes of season one (the only time the show was good imo) as i see fit, as well as a lot taken from the actual comics. do NOT come in here expecting anything similar to the cw show, because, and this does have to be said, they are not good storytellers and i know that i'm at least better than they are. also, this is going to be updated sporadically when i have the time, any attempt at a schedule is just a fluke on my end.  
> as always, comments (either positive or constructive) are always welcome and much appreciated!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from the hilda doolittle poem "heat".

Where were you, when you realized that Veronica Lodge had come back to Riverdale? 

Perhaps you were one of the first people to figure it out, to be walking down the street when a sleek black town car drove past, and there, staring out a rolled down window, was a girl with sleek black hair, staring out at the town but not seeing it, not really. Maybe you texted a friend, or posted about it on your Instagram. Or maybe you were one of the people who got the text, or saw the post, or the story. Maybe you were in your room. Maybe you were at _Pop's_ , sipping on a milkshake or phosphate soda, or munching on a plate of fries, or onion rings, when you get a text. Maybe you shared it with your friends at your table, or they shared it with you the second their pocket vibrates. And maybe you all stared and gaped at the phone, at each other, as you rushed to spread the news around to friends, boyfriends and girlfriends, siblings. Anyone who could understand why this was a BFD. 

Or maybe you were minding your own business, flipping through a magazine or testing out a new shade of lipstick or fixing a car or even just lounging on your porch when someone shook your shoulder, be it sibling or friend or significant other telling you they have _news_. Maybe you were already aware, or maybe this was the first time you had heard it, from someone almost delirious at the idea of new drama, fresh blood in the water on the cusp of junior year. 

Maybe you were apathetic at the idea, at Veronica Lodge returning, at long last, to the town she'd grown in; this was her home after all. Maybe you were apoplectic with excitement and bursting with questions; why had she come back after two years and why had she even left in the first place? Maybe you were waiting for her, either knowing that she was returning or having gotten an inkling throughout the summer as the Lodge family roamed the halls of the high school for the first time. Maybe you were completely unaware of it at all, and were too struck dumb by the revelation to have even begun to form an opinion.

Or maybe you were Betty Cooper, in your room, getting ready for a warm night out, unaware that the storm was swirling, unaware that you were seconds away from the first bolt of lightning touching down. 

* * *

"Turn it up, Kev." Betty's hands were both preoccupied, unable to reach the vintage stereo Mr. Clayton had given her as payment for six weeks of dogsitting in seventh grade. It added a nice rustic edge to the pastel pink of her room. "This is one of my favorites." Unfortunately for her, Kevin had been cursed with markedly different tastes than her for as long as she'd known him, and decided that Betty's makeup routine provided him the perfect opportunity to try and change the song. 

He mostly just accomplished having the radio emit some godawful shrieking noise before he gave up. 

"If you break that," Betty said, not bothering to turn around and face him, "you're paying for it. And Mr. Clayton said that it had been collected by his grandfather back in, like, the land before time." 

" _Fiiiiiiiiiiine_." With an exaggerated groan, Kevin flopped back down on the bed as if shot, raising his hands in defeat. "But your taste in music sucks. Just so you know." 

"You really are the nicest, Kev," Betty said, glancing briefly at him in the mirror. He was up on his elbows now, green eyes meeting green eyes in the mirror, one pair of them sarcastic and the other mirthful. 

"I tease because I love," he told her, maneuvering so that he was still facing her and sprawled on his front. "And not that eyeshadow," he added as Betty prepped her blush. "Something a bit more muted. You don't want Archie to think that you spent the summer learning how to be a painted lady." Betty snorted, but listened to him anyway. If there was one thing Kevin Keller knew much better than her, it was what looked good on a person. He had a sixth sense like that, even for himself, somehow managing to make his earth toned wardrobe complimented his dark hair and green eyes, always looking like he stepped off of lumberjack _Vogue_. Betty envied that sometimes, especially now, after having stressed for close to thirty minutes over an outfit for tonight. 

"How's this?" Betty asked as she finished applying her makeup, swiping blush over her cheeks, twirling her eyelashes with mascara, dabbing her lips a pretty pale pink. She scraped her blonde hair up into a ponytail and turned to face the boy on the bed. "Do I look OK?" 

"I'm loving the makeup," Kevin said earnestly. "It really makes your summer tan pop." 

"But?" Betty prompted. Kevin pursed his lips, and spun his fingers. Betty stood and twirled obediently, though there wasn't much to show for it, just jeans and a simple blue t-shirt. 

"I'm not totally loving the top," Kevin admitted. "I mean, you haven't seen Archie all summer. You were out and about camp counseling while he was stuck at his dad's sites, you wanna make an impression. Make him see you as a _woman_." 

"First of all, ew," Betty said, pulling her tanktop off and rifling through her closet. "Second of all, it's not like I want Archie to notice me in particular or anything. Or even that I want anyone to notice me, period. Definitely not Archie, but even if I wanted him to notice me, would that be such a bad thing? He's my best friend in the world and I haven't seen him all summer, this'll be a good memory and maybe I would just want to make sure it was perfect or something." She was babbling, she knew, and Kevin could no doubt hear the over compensation in her voice. 

Sure enough, when she turned around, two hangers in her hand, his eyebrows were at his hairline. Betty's cheeks flamed. 

"Just saying," she mumbled. 

"Oh yes you are." Kevin pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Also, the one on the left," he said, pointing to a rose colored sleeveless blouse. "It's still hot out, and it looks good on you." Betty shrugged the blouse on, smoothing it out of any errant wrinkles. "And it's OK if you have a crush on Archie. He's cute, in his ginger way." 

"I don't!" Betty said hurriedly. "I mean, you know, once maybe..." She almost cringed at the memory, that horrible last day of eighth grade. "But I've grown up, so-" Betty wasn't sure how she was going to finish that, when her eyes drifted to the window and she saw a figure in the opposite room in the Andrews house, _Archie's_ room. Except this figure had muscles and definition and maybe it had the same tousled red hair as her Archie but that couldn't be _her_ Archie. 

Since when did her Archie have abs?

"Oh my God." Betty almost tripped on a discarded sandal in her haste to scramble to the window just as the maybe Archie exited frame. 

"Oh my God," Kevin repeated dazedly. Betty tried to crane her neck to see more through her window into Archie's room, but no luck. Damn. 

"Did you see that Kev?" she asked, whipping around. Kevin, however, was glued to his phone like there'd just been a news alert about nuclear war or something. 

"See what?" he asked, glancing up. Clearly, he hadn't noticed the possibility of muscled Archie emerging from the summer. But he was quick to turn his phone face down and leaning so far over it as if he was trying to tuck it into his ribs, as if he was scared she'd see what was on it. 

"Never mind," Betty said with a sigh. "What were you looking at?" 

"Nothing!" Kevin said quickly, learning further over his phone. "Just, you know, new Instagram layout. It sucks." 

"Kevin." For a moment, there was something like a stalemate, both of them almost glaring at each other without blinking. But Kevin was an only child, he didn't have the practice of hours upon hours of staring contests the way Betty did back when she and Polly still got along. Eventually, he blinked. 

"It's not _that_ big a deal," he said. "Just, you know, surprising." Betty marched over and grabbed the phone. 

It wasn't a news alert warning of an imminent bombing, but almost akin to it, on a Riverdale scale. Apparently, Ginger Lopez had been driving along the same road as an almost unusually nice car, and had managed to nab a picture of the girl in the backseat while they were both stopped at a red light. Not a Kardashian, or even a Jolie-Pitt, but a Lodge. 

Veronica Lodge, to be exact, Betty would recognize her anywhere. Even though the picture was a bit grainy, Betty could tell that this was Veronica. Aged up from the two years since Betty had last seen her, but the sloe eyes and dark hair and immaculate grooming and the pearl necklace hadn't changed at all. Veronica had been wearing those pearls for as long as Betty had known her, had even worn them to school as early as kindergarten. 

"Oh," was Betty's brilliant response, sitting down on her window bench. "That's interesting," she managed after a while, handing Kevin his phone back. He cocked an eyebrow. 

"Uh, yeah, it is." He tucked the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. "Did you know she was coming back to town?" 

"Nope," Betty said, popping the p. "I mean, we haven't talked since eighth grade. Has she even come back for the summers since she started going to that school in New York?" Kevin shrugs. "Well, anyway, it's not that big a deal." 

"Isn't it?" Kevin asked. "I mean, back in middle school-" 

"No," Betty answered rapidly, cutting him off before he ran away with the thought. "It's just someone who used to live here coming back after a stint elsewhere. The only reason we care so much is that we're her friends." 

"We _are_?" It wasn't the proclamation of friendship that made Kevin skeptical, Betty knew, but the tense she used. She made herself beam brightly, smoothing down her top again and tightening her ponytail. 

"Of course we are, Kev," she told him. "There's no reason why would she be, and this is _so_ not some kind of scandal." She cleared her throat. Her stomach roiled. She'd already been nervous about seeing Archie for the first time since summer before, but now Veronica was back? Her insides were just a tangle of knots. "Anyway, I gotta go meet Archie." She stood and grabbed her bag, making her way out the door of her room. "An Archie, by the way, who might have bulked up over the summer and you might have seen, if you hadn't been obsessing over a nonstarter like Veronica Lodge." 

" _What?!_ " Kevin scrambled off the bed, dashing after her before she'd even closed the door. "Betty Cooper, say more right now!" 

* * *

Even though it was almost September, Veronica Lodge still spent more than half the ride with the windows rolled down. It always felt so much hotter and humid in Riverdale during the summer, at least in her memories, and so much icier and colder in the winters. Probably something to do with Sweetwater River, she wasn't sure. Science had never really been her strong suit. 

Still, it felt weird to be back. The entire drive through town, Veronica hadn't been able to do anything than sit back and take it in. The Register, the train station, _Pop's_ , the cemetery, the sheriff's station, MLJ comics, they'd even rolled briefly by the Twilight Drive In on their way through, just barely past the _Town With Pep!_ sign. It felt almost surreal, nothing had changed in Riverdale since she'd left it, more than two years ago. All she could do was soak it back up.

The Pembroke was the same too, as the car pulled up, still stately and imposing, more grand even than the town hall. Veronica hadn't seen it in two years either; her parents had taken the train up to the city during the summers and holidays. 

Maybe that was why she was nervous, Veronica reasoned, as Andre pulled up to the Pembroke, in all its stony, stately glory. She wasn't used to being back in Riverdale, to seeing its people and relearning its maps, that was all. That was what was sending thousands of butterflies aflutter in her stomach. Or maybe moths, they were more scary than butterflies. 

Veronica took a deep breath as she stepped out of the car, currently being unloaded of its bags by Andre, and pushed open the heavy doors to the Pembroke's marble lobby foyer. Screw the moths. Let them flutter as much as they wanted; she knew which drawer in the kitchen had a fly swatter. 

"Miss Veronica!" Just as good as a flyswatter, an older man with kind, smiling eyes, and outstretched arms made every nervous thought she had vanish. 

"Smithers!" Veronica wanted to almost throw her arms around his neck with how happy she was, but managed to settle for a kiss on the cheek and a wide smile. "Oh you are a sight for sore eyes!" 

"How was the ride?" 

"Not too much traffic, thank _God_ ," she said with a toss of her hair. "I'm just happy to be out of the car. I never knew how boring sitting could be." 

"I can only imagine." Smithers took a step back, and Veronica felt suddenly self conscious. He hadn't seen her in two years either, and she hadn't necessarily been at her best when she'd left Riverdale. Maybe he was waiting to see what sort of bratty temper tantrum she'd throw about the drive, or hear her moan about something inconsequential. Veronica could feel the moths, ready to take flight again. 

But instead, all Smithers did was smile more, the way he'd always done ever since she was a little girl, racing the halls of the Pembroke and getting into ungodly amounts of mischief. 

"Shall I help Andre with the bags?" was all he said, quite genially. Veronica smiled and the moths were still. 

"Thanks, Smithers." He nodded, turning to leave. "Wait, my parents-"

"Veronica!" No sooner had she said anything did they appear, liked she'd summoned them just by thinking about it. Hermione Lodge reached her first, enveloping her in a tight embrace, which Veronica did find slightly overdramatic. But her mother's manicured fingers carding through her hair did help cement the feeling that she was home. "It's wonderful to see you again!" 

"Mom, we saw each other three months ago," she pointed out. But then it was Hiram's turn, her dad wrapping his arms around her and she couldn't help but squeeze back tightly, breathe in the scent of cloves and peppermint clinging to his tie. 

"We've missed having you at home, mija," he murmured. "It's just nice to finally see you outside of New York." Veronica pulled away and brushed dark hair out of her eyes. 

It was nice. It was nice seeing them outside of New York, back in their home, and it would be nice to finally be in her own bedroom, to actually have a place to live in rather than a simple dorm and hundreds, if not thousands, of hotel visits. And now was as good a time as any to practice. And practice Veronica did, plastering a smile on her face and brushing her hair back, squaring her shoulders confidently. 

"It's good to be home," she said easily. "It just felt like it was time to come back." It rolled off her tongue easily, giving Veronica hope. With any luck, she'd have the pat line down to a T by the time junior year started next week. 

"Well, you must be tired," Hermione said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Veronica's ear. "Once you get unpacked we can order in something nice, or see if your dad can whip something up real quick." It felt good to know that, despite not having had a home cooked meal in two years, that her mom was still completely incapable from doing so much as turning on a stove. 

"Actually, I can go out and get my own food once I get all my stuff up to my room," Veronica said quickly. "I've been craving a cheeseburger since eleven in the morning." 

* * *

Betty was trying hard not to stare. 

By all measures, this was as ordinary as any end of summer for her and Archie, walking down the quiet streets of Riverdale, heading back home after a nice night at _Pop's_ , letting the final dregs of "and what did _you_ do this summer?" float away on the breeze. Archie was, as usual, sneaking some of the French fries from the to-go carton Pop had made for them, and Betty, as always, was leading the conversation. And she felt the same, and she knew she looked the same, but _Archie_. 

Gone was her round faced, freckly friend, all gangly limbs and uncoordinated stumbles. Archie still had his red hair, still had his freckles, still had ears that were slightly too big for his head, and that same broad smile that always made her feel safe. But the rest of him was completely different. He'd shot up and filled out, everything now seemingly so proportioned it was almost perfect, and his t-shirt clinging to what Betty was sure were actual, well defined muscles. And he'd only tripped once in their entire walk to and from _Pop's_. 

She'd meant what she said to Kevin. She didn't have a crush on Archie, and if she'd ever had one at all **_(_** and wouldn't dare admit it out loud even if she did **_)_** wasn't going to be confirmed any time soon. And just because he had stronger arms and had grown into himself, and a deep tan concealed almost all of his freckles while his hair was now messier than it generally was, that wasn't going to change. Other people might look at Archie and suddenly see him in a whole new light, but he was still her Archie. They'd gabbed excitedly about their upcoming plans for the school year; he'd asked her a million and one questions about what it was like being a camp counselor, and his eyes lit up when talking about how great it felt to see his dad be so proud of him. 

Maybe other people were going to find him more attractive, or give him more the time of day than they had before, but that would mean they would be late to the party that Betty had been at for years. She'd already seen what they hadn't yet, Archie's soul. They were best friends, always had been and always will. 

"You know, you should save some of those for Vegas," Betty said, snatching the to-go box out of his hands. Archie guffawed. 

"My dad's thinking of putting him on a diet," he joked. "Or having him lug bricks and pour concrete all summer." 

"Is that what he had you do all summer?" she asked. It seemed the best way of bringing up his metamorphosis from the last time they'd seen each other at the end of sophomore year. "Lugging bricks and pouring concrete?" Archie ducked his head, his cheeks flushed. 

"You're, like, the third person to bring that up," he said bashfully. 

"Oh sorry-"

"No! Don't be sorry!" he said quickly. Betty felt her cheeks flame too. "I mean, you've been gone, like, all summer, I get it." He cleared his throat. "My dad was having me on, like, all the construction sites. When I wasn't lifting or pouring, I was hammering and building and sweating freaking bullets half the time." Betty hummed, refusing to say anything else just in case it ended up being something stupid. "I actually kinda liked it. It kept me really busy, but allowed me a lot of time with my thoughts and stuff." 

"What kind of thoughts?" Betty asked, sneaking a quick look at him. His face was still red, the tips of his ears too, except it made him look less like a fire hydrant now, and more like a firefighter with some kind of blood flow condition. A pinup calendar firefighter with some kind of blood flow condition. 

"Just, you know." Archie rubbed the back of his neck. "Thoughts, you know? Just being able to get inside my own head for once. With school and everything, it's always so crazy. It was nice being able to work _and_ think at the same time." Betty nodded, staring intently at the to-go box. She hadn't even noticed they were at his house, until he grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into a stop. For a moment, it felt as if his fingers were burning into her skin. 

This was weird. This was _so weird_. She and Archie having dinners at _Pop's_ was one of the most normal things in the world. As quintessential to them as apple pie was to America as a whole. The simple fact that he's sprouted upwards **_(_** and outwards in the shoulders and arms **_)_** shouldn't be enough to throw her off kilter. _Stop it!_ Betty told herself sternly. One missed summer for a resumé-padding leadership experience, one missed growth spurt wasn't going to turn her completely doolally. 

"This is our stop," Archie said, letting his hand drop from her arm. And he smiled, same as always, wide and crooked and dimpled. He was still Archie Andrews, she was still Betty Cooper; she was being silly. 

"Even though I know you're going to wolf them down the second you get through the door and out of sight, here." Betty thrust the to go box towards him. Archie took him, and for a moment, his smile dimmed. "Everything OK?" 

He hugged her. Sudden and swift, his newly muscled arms wrapped around her tight. There was almost something intense about it, and Betty felt compelled to cling to him back, the two of them intertwined out under the porch lights. 

"Arch?" she whispered. She felt him inhale deeply. 

"I missed you this summer, Betty." For a second, he squeezed even tighter. "So, so much." A part of her felt compelled to pull away and interrogate him, ask him what was going on, if everything was OK. A smaller, darker part of her wanted to ask if that meant that he _had_ heard about Veronica being back in town, despite not having mentioned it at all. But the rest of her just leaned into the heat of him, the solidity.

"Me too," she said softly. "I...I missed you too."

* * *

"Veronica Lodge!" Internally, she couldn't help but cringe. Pop Tate was, literally, shaped like a friend, round and kindly with curlycue grey hair under his cap, laugh lines etched in his dark face for as long as Veronica could remember, forever clad in his white Chock'lit Shoppe uniform no matter which way the weather blew. And he was also boisterous in his joy, something she found both soothing and nerve-wracking tonight. It tended to draw attention. But Veronica smiled, and waved jovially. 

"Hi Pop!" she called brightly. 

"I've missed seeing your face around here girlie," he said, stepping out from behind the counter. His bowtie, the only changing element in his uniform, was striped green and black today. "You back here for good?" 

"I'll let you know how it goes this week, and whether my parents want me to stick around for that long," she joked. Pop grinned brighter. 

"Between you and me, I don't think your daddy's gonna let you out of his sight again," he said conspiratorially. "He was bounding in here with your mother two nights ago, asking if we still sold lottery tickets. Said he was feeling lucky enough for a good bet." Veronica felt her cheeks flame, and that spot between her ribs grow warm. "You here to eat?" 

"Always, Pop." She'd been desperate for something from his grill for ages, even before she'd gotten into the car this morning. "I'll have-" 

"Cheeseburger with avocado, onion rings on the side, malted Double Chock'lit shake," he rattled off. Veronica laughed, pushing the hood of her walking cape off her head to fall around her shoulders. 

"You're amazing, Pop, truly," she called as he moved to go back to the kitchen. "A marvel!" 

"Flattery will get you an extra onion ring," he said with a tip of his cap. "Sit anywhere you want!" 

Never had a more unnerving sentence been uttered to a teenage girl. It was a question that had haunted Veronica throughout her entire educational career whenever a teacher didn't have assigned seating, that unsettled her when she'd had to figure out where to sit in the cafeteria her first day in New York. And now here, in the sparsely populated and neon illuminated _Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe_. Ethel Muggs seemed to be sharing fries with Nancy Woods at the counter, while Raj Patel, Dilton Doiley, and Ben Button were huddled over a board game in one of the booths furthest to the back. Veronica thought about sitting by herself, entertaining herself with a book or some music on her phone while she ate, try easing back into the social scene once school started, and not before. It was better than just standing, trying to pretend Ethel wasn't burning a hole in her purse with her stare, and her feet already hurt from walking all the way from the Pembroke after a day in the car. 

And then she spotted the beanie. 

His mom had to keep on making him new ones, there's no way that the beanie from eighth grade still fit him now, and Veronica doubted Mr. Jones was the painstaking knitter type. Veronica hadn't talked to Jughead Jones in years, but that put him in the same boat as everyone else. Other than her parents, she hadn't talked to anyone in Riverdale in years. And he still struck a familar pose, hunched over something **_(_** in middle school it was usually a comic trip **_)_** , grey beanie perched on messy dark hair, clad in neutral colors and denims. Honestly, it was an easy decision to walk over to his booth. Better than the geek squad. 

"Jughead?" He blinked up at her from his laptop. Same peering grey-green gaze, same long nose and bony face, but there were bags under his eyes and an air of suspicion. Or maybe it was just because he didn't quite know what to make of her. Veronica didn't even know what to make of her, back in Riverdale. "Can I join?" He nodded his head in the seat opposite him in the booth. 

"If you want." Veronica sat gingerly. She was never very good at small talk, but thankfully Jughead liked to cut to the quick of things. 

"Didn't realize you were back in town," he said casually, forty-fiving his laptop screen. Veronica nodded, twisting her fingers together on her lap. 

"Yep," she said, slowly drawing it out. "And you know," she gestured around them, "When in Riverdale." The corners of Jughead's lips quirked up slightly, and he closed his laptop completely, though it was still in between them, like some kind of electronic shield. 

"Always patron its finest establishment?" he guessed. It was Veronica's turn to smile. 

"The absolute finest," she agreed. "Some may say in the entire tri-state area." 

"You would know." The sound she made was somewhere between gasp and laugh. Jughead had always had an excellent joke delivery system, provided it was deadpan snark rather than any actual attempt at humor. When he actually tried to be funny, it was legitimately terrible. "So, just passing through? Saying hi to mommy and daddy before you jet back to New York?" 

"Staying, actually," she admitted. Jughead's eyebrows shot up in surprise at that, his mouth opened clearly to ask more questions, but in swooped in one of the soda jerks, like a saving angel, with Veronica's shake and food, as well as a steaming coffee pot. 

"Cheeseburger with avocado, side of onion rings, malted Double Chock'lit shake for you," he said, setting it down by her side. "Jughead, want me to top you off?" He nodded, nudging his cup towards the end of the table. For a moment, Veronica ignored everything and just enjoyed sipping the malt and chocolate through her straw, watching Jughead take a long drink of coffee that was definitely too hot to be properly enjoyed yet. 

"You used to hate coffee," she pointed out after a moment of silence. Jughead shrugged, and reached to steal an onion ring off her plate. Veronica resisted the urge to smack his hand away. 

"You used to have me convinced that chocolate really was spelled c-h-o-c-k-l-i-t for years," he retorted. This did manage to make her laugh, yanking her plate back towards her, and surprise surprise, Jughead laughed too, grin wide as he did so. "It's not _funny_! That cost me the second grade spelling bee trophy!" 

"Oh come on Jughead, it is so not my fault that you never once thought to look in an actual dictionary before signing up for a spelling bee." It was what she had done, and it was what had allowed her to win that very trophy at that very spelling bee. Jughead had sulked for days. 

He wasn't sulking now. Something as simple as a shared memory and the joy of food and drink at the table seemed to have broken whatever ice had grown over two years of distance and zero communication. They talked as they ate, about nothing in particular other than what was on their minds, Veronica munching on her burger and Jughead filching onion rings whenever he could over the many minutes in their conversation. Veronica still let him eat her pickle, once she'd finished her burger and grown tired of the way he'd been eyeing it for the last fifteen minutes, though she made sure to add in a comment about "pickle and coffee breath" for good measure. 

"Don't knock it till you try it." 

"Never," she shot back, grabbing one of the onion rings back from him and taking a bite. "You can add that to your list of things I won't entertain." 

"Along with ever reading the _To Kill A Mockingbird_ sequel, apparently." Veronica shook her head, sucking down the final melts of her milkshake with a very unladylike slurp. 

"I don't think a book that completely stomps on everything its predecessor is worth reading, personally," she said with a flick of her wrist. Jughead opened his mouth, likely to give another witty rejoinder, before a quarter hit him in square in the nose. They both jumped when it clattered on his plate, and when Veronica whipped her head around, a group of tall senior boys in lettermen jackets were laughing uproariously. 

"That should cover next week's rent, right Jones?" one of them snickered. Veronica moved to stand up and give them a real piece of her mind, but Jughead, all but lunging across the table, reached out and grabbed a fistful of her cape, yanking her back down in her seat. 

"What the hell, Jughead?" she hissed, pulling herself out of his grip. He sat back, glaring over her head as the laughter faded, the ghouls doubtlessly taking their seats somewhere else. 

"Just leave it alone," he mumbled, slumping in his seat and downing the rest of his coffee in one swift chug. 

"What _was_ that?" Jughead scowled, somehow managing to slink down even lower. 

"It's fine," he mumbled. "Happens at school too, when the first of every month approaches. Because, you know," he shrugged his shoulders, "Rent due and all that." Veronica furrowed her eyebrows. Jughead hadn't ever exactly been Mr. Popular, but never a tried and true social outcast. How did he get from point A to point B in two years? 

"You're having trouble with rent?" she guessed. Jughead scoffed, snatching another onion ring. Veronica let him. If there was one thing she knew, especially when it came to Jughead Jones, food was the ultimate truth serum. Get someone eating, you get them talking; she'd known it ever since she started spying on her father's business meetings, had around some lavish dinner or luncheon half the time. 

"My parents started having some problems with our drugstore around freshman year," he said in a low voice, staring intently at his empty plate. "It was after you left so, like, you wouldn't know, but it got bad. Like, consider selling to Malmart bad, which a lot of people in town weren't too happy about. Someone even took out an ad against my mom and dad in the _Register_ because of it. I'm sure you can guess who." Veronica could, indeed, guess who; that person had always loved gossip. "So we didn't sell, but it was hemorrhaging a lot of money, so we had to close it down and lease out the building. And declare bankruptcy for a bit." Jughead peered up at her, the bags under his eyes seeming more pronounced than they were earlier that night.

"Oh my God, Jughead." Veronica wasn't really sure what to say. They weren't ever really friendly-friendly, he was more glued to Archie's side than anything, or off doing his own loner thing, but they weren't bitter enemies. And they'd been friendly now, eating and laughing together. Gabbing like two washerwomen, as her mom would say. So Veronica searched her brain for the appropriate thing to say. "That must have sucked for you." 

"Definitely wasn't the boost to my social life, clearly," he said, nodding towards the other end of the restaurant where, when she turned, the group of boys was now busy pelting themselves with fries. Which was another point in assholery, for making Pop's life harder at the end of the night. "Might have knocked me down a couple pegs and friends, actually."

"Well, they're dicks," she said simply. "And thanks for telling me." 

"Not entirely sure why I did it," he answered bluntly. "I mean, you've been showing off terrible taste in everything the whole night, so..."

"Rude!" Veronica's phone buzzed, and she was still chuckling when she pulled it out. A text from her mother, naturally, and a quick glance at the time helped her understand why. "As much as I'm loving your bad takes, Jughead, it's late, I should probably head out." She pulled a few bills out of her wallet, definitely more than were needed for just her meal. "Consider this me putting your food 'on my tab'," she added as she stood.

"Your generosity is a godsend," Jughead said dryly. 

"You're welcome." Veronica pulled her cape tighter around her shoulders. "I guess I'll see you at school next week, huh?" Here, Jughead smiled again, one of those little ones that were impossible to read. 

"Guess you will." She turned to go. "Hey Veronica." When Veronica looked back, Jughead had his laptop back open, staring at her intently. "Why come back to Riverdale, halfway through high school? You never mentioned why." For a moment, her blood ran cold. Of course Jughead, with his dissecting stare, would be the first person to ask the question she so dreaded. Veronica took a moment, breathed deep through her nose. She'd practiced this for the last couple days in the mirror. 

"Just felt like it was time," she answered, faux nonchalant. "And New York never entirely felt like a good fit anyway." She waited for him to interrogate further, wracking her brain to find a polite way to shut it down. But instead, Jughead nodded, and waved in a two fingered salute before turning his attention back to his screen. It was like they'd wound back the clock a couple hours; they were in the same positions as before. Veronica, standing in the midst of _Pop's_ , staring at Jughead, hunched over his keyboard.

Except this time, Veronica turned around and left back for the Pembroke, with the fairly firm belief that she'd somehow managed to find something akin to a friend to help her navigate being back in Riverdale. 

* * *

There weren't any birds in New York. Well, there likely were, but they were hard to hear over the din of traffic and pedestrians and the other trappings of the city. There were a lot of of things to say about living in New York, especially where noise was concerned, but none of those things involved actually being woken up to the sound of chirping birds _in real life_. 

It made Veronica feel like she was living in freaking Mayberry. 

Her parents, so well meaning and so overbearing, had been asking her what her plans were for the day all morning, with gentle _mijas_ and touches along her shoulder as Veronica sipped coffee and tried to come up with excuses. Lodges didn't spend their days doing nothing. It wasn't proper. 

She certainly wasn't doing anything now, as the top of her convertible cranked down, allowing the end of summer breeze to ruffle her hair as she drove. It had been Hiram's, when he was a boy, this baby blue vintage Camaro, her parents had explained as they'd handed her the keys earlier that morning. She was to consider it a back to school present, a welcome home present. Veronica didn't even care what kind of present it was. It felt like independence, the one wrench in her determination to leave New York and return to her parents in Riverdale. At least she had an escape key if the Pembroke became too stifling. 

Veronica had planned to lounge in her room, read a book, probably take a nap, given how late she'd stayed up unpacking all her things. Even try and skulk around Riverdale High, just to get a feel of the place. Well, she could still do that now that she had a car to take her there, instead of just walk. But a drive and stroll along Sweetwater River felt like such a better idea. Less chance of running into people, less chance of having to deal with the unpleasant realities of the world. 

It was warm. Not stifling hot, thank God, and with the wind coming from speed of her car down the road, and there were only a few clouds dotting the clear blue of the sky. When Veronica parked, she could hear the gentle rushing of the river in the distance, even managed to discern the different bird calls as she made her way through the trees. It was cooler by the river, and Veronica let herself get lost in the atmosphere. She could pretend there were no parents, no schoolmates, no Riverdale waiting for her when she got back to the car. That all there was, as far as the eye could see, were the pines, the water, the mountains, already snowcapped even though it was only the end of the summer. 

In the midst of the serene white noise, the _click!_ almost sounded like a gunshot.

Veronica jumped, only for her eyes to land on a girl in ripped jeans and pink striped hair, pointing a camera at a family of birds hopping on the rocks. She sucked in a breath of deep, clean air, allowing her heart rate to slow. It was just the silence that had made her so jumpy. The girl turned, still too much of a ways away to make out any major defining features beyond dark eyes and toffee colored skin. She lifted her hand and Veronica waved back before continuing down a different path. Her mom did some photography on occasion; she'd learned early on it was best not to disturb them when they were In The Zone. 

Veronica had thought a bit, about taking a photography class back in New York. Maybe she could have sent Hermione some pictures. But the elective had only been available her freshman year, back when she'd still been livid at the idea of her parents "sending her away" and hadn't wanted to even answer their phone calls for a good couple of months. Not that she hadn't understood why their decision that maybe spending at least a year at school in the city was a good one for a while now, but sometimes old memories could still sting. 

But at least she was back in Riverdale now, circumstances be damned, and she could actually walk amongst real trees, walk along the banks of Sweetwater River, not a concrete jungle or asphalt road. Just enjoy the fresh air and rushing water and the sounds of nature and...

Voices? Two voices, arguing low and fast just a little bit ahead of her. A tall, thin man with dark skin, head completely bald, apparently in some kind of discussion with a younger woman, pale and slim with brown hair streaked with blonde. Neither of them seemed dressed for a walk by the river, the man in a suit and the woman in a long skirt and blouse. Veronica froze, unsure of precisely what to do. She didn't recognize either of them, even as pieces of their conversation floated over to her. 

"...no idea...can't tell...panic..." The man's voice was low and hissing. 

"...have a right...students...nowhere...how to explain..." The woman's voice was higher, more panicked, and Veronica decided the best thing to do was duck behind a tree. The next fragments of conversation she was able to make out were closer, as if they were walking in her direction. 

"...my decision...my answer...when we get there...miss..." Veronica couldn't hear the woman's response, just kept herself still with the back pressed to the bark. Nor could she hear what the man was saying next. Maybe they were moving away from her, still locked in this bizarre and intense discussion that likely shouldn't be happening at the edge of Sweetwater River, of all places. 

Veronica waited for a while, until all she could hear was wind and birdsong, and peeked from behind the tree. Neither of them in her line of sight. Seemed like a good idea to cut bait on the walk here. She'd gotten what she'd wanted, the freedom of driving her new car through Riverdale, the smell of nature and the joys of being back amongst memories from childhood, but between not wanting to disturb the lone photographer or run into two non-hikers arguing with each other, it seemed to Veronica that the best idea was to just head back to the Pembroke and start prepping for the start of junior year next week.

It was still a decent walk from the river to where she'd parked the Camaro, and there were no interruptions this time. Veronica allowed herself to shut her brain off, always so hard to do in New York, and just enjoy the sights and sounds and feelings as she walked through the trees, with the sound of the wind and water in her ears, until she opened the car door and slid into the front seat, turning the key in the ignition. 

Except it didn't start. Not when she turned it once, twice, and again after that. Veronica stepped out, and popped open the hood, peering quizzically at the engine. Unfortunately for her, she didn't know that much about cars, and with nothing smoking or steaming or smelling obviously off, she had no way of knowing what the Hell was actually wrong with her car to the point where it wouldn't even start for her. Which meant that, for the moment, she was effectively stranded. 

"Dammit." Veronica resisted kicking the side of the car, and instead took out her phone. 

* * *

The phone was already ringing when Betty walked into the autobody shop, a shrill sound given that the thing had been installed back in the early 2000s. It was still attached to the wall with a cord, for God's sake. 

There was a call of, "I got it!" from underneath a car, and a pair of jean-clad legs shimmied out so the body they were attached to could get the phone. "Hi Betty. Your dad's in the office." 

"Thanks Mrs. Jones," she said with a wave, ducking through the door. Hal Cooper's yellow head, exactly the same shade as his daughter's, though short where her's was put up in a sloppy bun today, was bent over a stack of papers, scribbling some numbers down furiously. "Hi Dad!"

"Hi baby," Hal said, standing to give her a quick kiss on her cheek, as well as peer into the contents of the brown paper bag she deposited on his desk. "I'm assuming your mother was behind this visit?" Betty nodded, reaching up to tighten her ponytail. 

"You forgot your lunch, and she said _'too much Pop's in one week is_ _going to put him in his grave before you even graduate, Elizabeth'_ ," she said, adding Alice Cooper's precise enunciation into every syllable. Hal laughed, and fished the sandwich his wife had packed for him out of the bag. Simple peanut butter, which had also been Alice's suggestion. 

"Well, it's always nice when I get to see you before you dash off to whatever it is you're doing today." Betty shrugged, not necessarily willing to detail that her plans today were going to be filling Kevin in on all things Archie and avoiding Polly the same way she'd avoid any evil bitch plague that might descend on the Cooper household. Her dad wasn't really one of those people who got involved in anyone's drama; it would just upset him. 

"Hal!" Gladys Jones's dark head popped through the door, a smudge of grease on her cheek. "Some kid's car won't start near Sweetwater, so I'm gonna put the engine repair on hold to go tow it back." 

Hal started to nod when Betty cut in, "I can do it. Seriously, I've driven the tow truck lots of times when I've helped out around here last year," she added off Hal's look. Gladys shrugged, running a hand through her hair.

"Up to you, Hal." He grinned at his daughter as he stood. 

"Go nuts kiddo," he said, reaching for the keys on the hook and tossing them to her. Betty caught them easily. "Just make sure you remember to have them do all the paperwork before you tow the car back here, all right?" 

"I know what to do, Dad," Betty responded, already halfway out the door. "Love you!" She waved a quick goodbye to Gladys and unlocked the tow truck, fire engine red with black and bold **COOPER BODY SHOP** on the side, boasting _Services And Repairs_ in smaller curlycue letters, and hopped into the driver's seat with ease.

She'd gotten her license last year, after her sixteenth birthday, and had spent a lot of time after school helping out at the shop. Betty had loved fixing cars with her father, ever since she was a little girl hanging onto his elbow and staring wide eyed at all the machinery he used at work, and time at the body shop had been a balm when the stress of school was too much, or when she wanted to avoid her mom or Polly at home. And it had been nearly hysterical to see Archie's face when she'd shown up in the tow truck after he'd blown a tire on his dad's pickup. 

It was a short drive from the garage to Sweetwater River, and Betty wasn't too surprised that it didn't take her long to spot a vintage blue Camaro next to a small, girl shaped figure with dark hair whipping in the wind. Betty had exactly ten seconds of normality before she drew close enough to notice defining characteristics like the pearls at the throat and dark eyebrows. If the tow truck wasn't so damn loud, she might have been inclined to turn around. Maybe, though that might have been a dick move to someone who was stranded on the side of the road and had literally called for the tow. So Betty gritted her teeth, turned the key out of the ignition, and jumped out of the car. 

"Cooper's Body Shop," she said jovially, walking over. There was a moment where Veronica seemed to think she was just another person, before the recognition hit. 

"Oh my God, Betty?" She looked so shocked her eyes had gone completely round, dinner plates with dark centers. 

"Veronica, hi!" Betty managed a quick grin, calling back what she'd said to Kevin last night, _we're her friends_. And search though she did in the recesses of her mind for some kind of acting ability for this reunion, she wasn't able to find any. There was something inside her that was genuinely happy, in some way, that Veronica was back. It was what made her open her arms and envelop her old friend in a brief hug, one Veronica responded to with clear startled appreciation. 

"So you're working for your Dad now?" Veronica asked, pulling away. She looked largely the same, if a bit more worldly and less...Chaotic was the word Betty was groping for. It looked as if something had stabilized in her over the years. It was a good look. 

"Not really, I was just there and they were strapped for time and I offered my services," she explained, with a brief flourish towards the tow truck. Veronica laughed briefly, though there was a bit of tension around her eyes. "So, what's the problem with the car?' Betty continued, peering at the blue Camaro. Better to keep the conversation moving along than get bogged down by the inherent awkwardness of long lost friends. Veronica turned to look at it with a grimace. 

"I was able to drive it fine on my way here, but when I was done with my walk, it wouldn't start." She reached in and turned the key still in the ignition. All that happened was the wheezing sound of an idling car. "See? And the Pembroke is a bit far of a walk, especially in this heat. Curse of old cars, I guess." Betty hummed, and reached through the window of the tow truck to grab some papers and a clipboard. 

"So you're living at the Pembroke with your parents again? Like, permanently?" she asked, scribbling down the make and model. Veronica twisted her strand of pearls around her fingers for a moment. 

"Yeah, actually," she said. "Gonna be going to Riverdale High and everything." Veronica chewed on her lip, and Betty was hit by a stunning realization: _she was actually nervous!_ Maybe their friendship had been a bit up and down at times, and nonexistent once she'd gone to school in New York, but Betty had known Veronica for a while beforehand. The joys of living in a small town. And she'd always been so self assured and confident in herself. Seeing her anything less was a bit jarring, and almost mollifying in some weird way. Like there was more equal footing between them, rather than when they were kids and Betty hid her meek shyness behind Veronica's near excess of personality. 

"Free tip: avoid it whenever the cafeteria serves Sloppy Joes," she said with an easy smile, handing Veronica the clipboard so she could fill out the information. "They're the worst." Veronica smiled back. 

"Noted." She wrote for a moment while Betty set about to hooking up the car to the tow. "You can just have your Dad call me or my parents with an estimate, no need to haggle over anything," she said easily. Right, because the Lodges were still going to be as wealthy as the Rothschilds and didn't have to worry about how expensive anything is. Betty waited for the pang of irritation that sometimes came when she was reminded of that, like a hollow hit in the stomach. It didn't come. 

_Huh._

Maybe the time apart over the past two years, or the growing they'd done separately as people and women, had matured them both. Veronica seemed less high and mighty, and the brief stings of jealousy Betty would feel throughout their conversations seemed nowhere to be found. Maybe this could work, this Veronica Lodge is back in Riverdale and here to stay situation. 

"Are you gonna need a ride back?" Betty asked as Veronica handed her back the clipboard. "I can drive you back to town in the truck." Veronica shook her head, pulling out her phone. 

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, tapping away on it. "I'll just call my parents or something." No sooner had she said that did they both hear the rumble of a car engine, the way it did when it had been prepared to cruise and decided to crawl instead, pretty unusual considering how not populated this road and how hidden this trail near Sweetwater River was. Betty turned as Veronica craned her neck, and her heart dropped. 

There was nothing that could fill Betty with dread more than the sight of a cherry read Chevrolet Impala convertible **_(_ **from 1961 of all years, just so that the amazing vintage of the car could sting as much as everything else **_)_** , the top down so that two red heads could be tousled in the breeze. As the car slowed and stopped right by Veronica's blue Camaro, Betty got a clearer look. 

Jason Blossom was driving, with his twin sister Cheryl lounging in the backseat. Both had electric red hair attractively mussed from the drive, though Jason's was a shade lighter and Cheryl's was much longer, with the same alabaster skin, full lips, and divine bone structure that made them look like twin sculptures more than twin siblings. Both were wearing white linen. Cheryl's lace gloved hand dangled out of the car, scarlet nails the same color as her lipstick peeking through the white. 

Betty swallowed a sudden wave of anger. 

"Betty," Cheryl said brightly, almost sickly sweet. "Hard at work I see. Rain or shine, no doubt?" Betty tried to smile back. She must have looked constipated. 

"Just helping my dad out, Cheryl," she said. "How was your summer?" Cheryl waved a dismissive hand, leaning to see Veronica better. Jason, on the other hand, who had been staring ahead with his hands languidly on the wheel, finally turned in Betty's direction, a slow smile spreading on his face. Or maybe it was a smirk, she wasn't entirely sure. 

"Summer was wonderful, Betty," he said, drawling his voice. "And your's?" She resisted the urge to dig her nails into her palms, and tried to school her face into that careful neutrality her mom seemed to have mastered from her first moment on planet Earth. 

"Fine," she answered curtly. 

"And who are _you_?" Cheryl asked, nearly cutting Betty off as she pointed to Veronica. Veronica took a step forward until she and Betty were side by side. When Betty snuck a quick glance, she had a mixture of confidence, confusion, and coldness on her face. 

"I'm Veronica Lodge," she said, holding out her hand. Cheryl grabbed it eagerly, though seemed surprised by the force and assuredness of Veronica's shake. "Did you guys just move to Riverdale? I don't recognize you." Cheryl's brown eyes widened briefly. 

"Ah, you must be Hiram and Hermione's big city daughter," she said. "I'm Cheryl Blossom, and this is my twin brother Jason." 

"Charmed, I'm sure," Jason said mockingly. Betty shifted her feet and wondered if an old tow truck encumbered with luggage could outrun a vintage car in peak condition. 

"We moved here a couple years ago," Cheryl continued. When Veronica opened her mouth, "Car trouble?" 

Her smile be damned, Betty knew this maneuver from the past two years she'd spent in classes with Cheryl. Her dominance of a conversation was her way of dominating the entire exchange. She drove the words, she was in charge. She briefly caught Jason's eye, entirely by mistake, and dropped her gaze to her shoes when he gave her another knowing smile. 

"Oh yeah," Veronica said, glancing back at her Camaro. "Betty was just helping me out." Cheryl nodded, then turned to Jason, who leaned over to fix Veronica with his own stare as well, though his was icy blue. 

"We were just on our way down to the river to have a nice little picnic," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on Veronica, "but we'd be more than willing to take you back to town before going back on our way. The Pembroke, I'm assuming." Betty glanced at Veronica, who had one eyebrow arched. 

"That's very generous of you, Jason," she said, but her tone was slightly chilled.

Cheryl waved a hand, though it was Jason who answered, "Ah, it's no trouble at all." Cheryl moved to open the passenger door, and Betty, for some reason, moved out of the way, but Veronica Lodge didn't move at all. Cheryl and Betty froze too. 

"It's a very kind offer Cheryl," she inclined her head once, "Jason," she inclined her head again. "But I've already got a ride, so you're good." They glanced at each other, and Betty just decided to stare openly at Veronica, who had her arms folded and genial smile on her face that betrayed nothing. Cheryl shrugged. 

"Suit yourself," she said, tossing her red curls. Jason shifted to get the car rolling again, before his twin put a hand on his arm and stopped him. "You know, we're going to be having a party down by the river in a couple days, to celebrate the end of summer. You should really join us Veronica, you'll love it." 

"I will?" Cheryl's bright red smile was full of teeth. 

"Of course," she said cheerily. "And everyone in our entire class is invited, like a sort of informal mixer. Isn't that right, JJ?" Jason smiled, supposedly at Veronica, but his blue eyes were drilling holes into Betty, she could almost feel it. 

"Absolutely," he answered. "Hopefully we'll see both of you there." Veronica had barely nodded before the engine roared and the car peeled away, Cheryl's high laugh floating on the breeze. Betty reached up to tie her ponytail, enjoying the brief ache of the yank on her hair. 

"Wow," Veronica said, shaking her head slightly. "And I thought New York snobs were bad." Betty laughed slightly, twirling the pen from the clipboard in her fingers. 

"I don't think even the Royal Family has as much snobbery as the Blossoms," she said, checking to make sure Veronica's Camaro was securely attached to the tow truck. "Seriously, it's almost _Guinness Book Of World Records_ level!" 

"Oh I don't doubt it." Veronica ran a hand through her hair, peering at the red car slowly shrinking into the distance. "What's the deal with them anyway?" Betty sighed. 

"They moved here about two years ago." The "right after you left" remained unsaid. "I think they were originally from somewhere in Canada, but their super rich parents are having this huge divorce fight like on _Dynasty_ or something, so they were sent down here to live with their grandmother. You know that big house on the edge of town with the old lady?" Veronica's eyes widened. 

"Their grandma is that witch living at Thornhill?" Betty nodded. "Damn. They should have had their party there so that we could see whether or not they really do occult offerings like my mother says." Betty snorted. "Anyway, are they always so giddy at making people uncomfortable, or was it a special case of end of summer blues?" She shrugged. 

"Who knows?" There might be some shift in how Veronica was behaving, how Betty was behaving, how they both felt around each other, but she wasn't going to start divulging her secrets left and right, especially ones that involved characters like the Blossoms. "Listen, I know you said you were gonna call your parents for a ride, but I feel bad just kind of leaving you in the dust on the side of the road. Let me give you a ride back." Veronica cocked her head. "Come on, please? It'll make me feel better." Veronica smiled slightly, and reached into her car for her things. 

"Fine, if you insist." 

"I do." Betty hopped into the tow truck and quickly cleared some things off the passenger seat as Veronica opened the door and stepped in, clearly remembering that it was always a bit finicky as she made sure to close it firmly. "It'll be interesting see you at school," Betty said as she started up the engine. "New York just wasn't doing it for you anymore?" Veronica tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and shifted slightly. 

"Yeah, it just felt like it was time to come home," she said. The engine roared to life, and they made their way back to town. The conversation flowed easier than Betty would have expected, breezy and friendly, and the road back to the Pembroke flowed by easily, dotted with carefree conversation. 

Neither of them even attempted to mention Archie. 

* * *

Vegas must have been walked along Sweetwater River more times than Archie could remember, yet he always had to sniff each tree as if it had just been planted. Sometimes, when it was dead of winter, Archie would tug at the leash and sigh his anger all the way back into his nice, heated house. But it was a beautiful day today, perfectly warm with just the right soft breeze from the river to stop it from being muggy, and there'd actually been a decent enough lull in the work over at Andrews Construction that his dad had agreed to be the one to drive the truck. 

They'd spent all summer together, of course, but that was with Fred in the office and Archie over at the sites and then dead on his feet when he was back home. Walking Vegas at Sweetwater was just, like, father-son bonding, or something like it. 

Archie looked more like his mom than he did to Fred Andrews, who had dark hair where Archie's was red and more lines on his face and definitely more facial hair. The only trait they seemed to share were the same thick eyebrows over deep set, chocolate brown eyes, nearly identical. But where Fred clearly had nothing to hide, not in his son's entire life, Archie always felt like he had a billion secrets swirling around in his head. 

"Archie!" Fred's voice, coming from a ways ahead, broke him out of his reverie enough to see Vegas straining at the leash to catch up to the other Andrew. "You gonna stand there all day?" 

"Sorry!" he called back, jogging up the bank, Vegas bounding happily alongside him. 

"Caught up in your own head again?" Fred asked as they started walking again, Vegas leading the way with the occasional sniff. When Archie nodded, "You're gonna have to tell me what gets you so wrapped up in your own thoughts one day. I'm always curious." Archie shrugged and tightened his fingers around the leash. 

"Nothing glamorous Dad," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "Just, you know. Stuff." Fred nudged his shoulder gently, and when Archie turned there was a gentle twinkle in his eyes. 

"We don't talk anymore?" he asked, and Archie ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flame. 

"It's just boring stuff, stuff with school and friends, you know?" Fred chuckled slightly. 

"Oh I definitely know," he said. "Had my fair share of drama and conundrums when I was your age at Riverdale High." Fred made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a sigh. "Anything I can help you with?" Archie opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. Maybe it would be a good idea to get some advice from his dad, to see what he would do in these situations. 

But before he could say anything, there was an _"Archie!"_ from just a bit ahead. He instantly recognized the voice, and the figure waving at him from where she was sitting on the picnic blanket. Cheryl Blossom, in the company of her twin brother Jason, just to make this extra perfect for Archie. He'd have liked to ignore them, except for his dad waving back politely, and soon they were walking over, with Vegas sniffing experimentally in the direction of the bread and cheese board. 

"Hey Cheryl," Archie said. He avoided looking at Jason. 

"What have you been up to this summer, Russet Adonis?" Her voice was more bright and chipper than he'd heard directed at him within the past year. Archie shrugged, and tugged Vegas away from their food. 

"Nothing much," he muttered. "Just worked with my dad. Dad, you remember the Blossoms, right?"

"Of course," Fred said. Cheryl simply waved, but Jason stood up and extended his hand. Fred shook it dutifully. "You kids just passing the time or are you going to need a ride back?" 

"You're so sweet Mr. Andrews, but we're just dandy, JJ and I." Cheryl extended a hand to the deep red car parked nearby, and Archie could feel himself try not to drool out how gorgeous it was, not to mention the general idea of just having his own car the way rich kids get.

Jason, meanwhile, was peering intently at Archie; he could feel the heat of his gaze. "Mr. Andrews, do you mind if I borrow Archie for just a split second? I just want to ask him something about one of our summer assignments for our science class." 

"Summer assignments, huh?" Fred looked to Archie, who just knew that the tips of his ears were a flaming red and had to resist the urge to deck Jason Blossom right in his stupid face. "Sure, I'll make sure Vegas doesn't decimate too much of your picnic blanket." 

"Thanks," Jason said brightly, before grabbing Archie by the arm and leading him away as Cheryl extolled the virtues of a fine one hundred percent cotton blanket or whatever the Hell she was saying. As soon as they were out of earshot, Archie swung himself out of Jason's grasp, glaring.

"You and I both know we don't have some stupid summer assignments, so thanks for getting my dad on my case about freaking nothing," he hissed. Jason, still irritatingly taller than him, though considerably more lanky, drew himself up to his full height and crossed his arms. Archie forced himself not to quail. 

"Had to think of something, Andrews," he said icily. "I've been trying to get you alone for weeks to talk about football tryouts once school starts back up, and every time I get close to you, you're out of the room like a cat with its tail on fire." Archie shifted uncomfortably. "When we talked in July, you said you were interested in trying out for the team, and I think now that you've gone full beast mode, you actually have a decent shot." 

Part of Archie wanted to say yes then and there. Just go full in and be Prince Jock to Jason's King, try out for football and run around in the grass and mud and mass of bodies and get that feeling that he'd gotten doing work with his dad, the erasure of all coherent thought that came when all he was preoccupied with was simple, one foot in front of the other style labor. But the other part, the part that knew that he'd made promises, that maybe this was all just some wild fantasy...

"I dunno Jason," he said, running a hand through his hair. Jason opened his mouth to argue more, and Archie jumped in. "Listen man, I kinda did something to my shoulder during a project at my dad's work, so I can't even think about football right now." It was lie told straight through his teeth, but it did seem to get Jason to back off. "So I'll let you know, OK? Just stop harassing me." For a moment, they stared at each other, dark on blue, before Jason nodded and stalked back over to where Cheryl was rubbing Vegas's ears and she and Fred chatted. Archie took a deep breath, and followed. 

"...was my bad, we're not actually in the same lab, so my issues with the journaling are just mind," Jason was explaining when Archie arrived. "But hey man, thanks for letting me know," he said jovially, clapping Archie on the shoulder. Archie nodded, taking the leash from Fred. 

"Well, we should really be going, right Dad?" Fred nodded, shaking Jason's hand again and inclining his head in Cheryl's direction. 

"It was really nice seeing you two kids," he said, walking towards where their truck was part. 

"You too Mr. Andrews," and here Cheryl turned her knowing gaze on him. "Archie." 

"I'll see you guys at school next week," he said awkwardly, before spinning on his heel and all but sprinting after Fred, Vegas bounding after him. It didn't take a lot of time to wrangle the dog into the truck and hop in himself, buckling his seatbelt as Fred pulled out of the spot and started heading down the road back home. "I'll show you my backpack Dad, we really don't have any assignments and I'm definitely not in the same league as Jason Blossom when it comes to science stuff." Fred chuckled slightly. 

"Don't worry Arch, I believe you," he said. "I was just thinking about earlier, really. You said you were having friend trouble. Was it about those two?" 

"Nah, definitely not, I'm not even really friends with them," Archie said quickly. He searched for the right words to follow up. It felt like the window of opportunity to talk to his dad about the really important stuff had passed, but he hadn't been lying. There had been stuff swirling in his head that he might actually want his opinion on. "Just, I've been friends with the same people for what feels like forever," he explained, staring at his tightly clasped hands in his lap. "And, like, do I want to be friends with the same kids from kindergarten, and are we even compatible to be friends now?" 

"Does this have anything to do with what I saw when I was out on the porch yesterday, between you and Betty?" Again, Archie flushed. "Did you two-" 

"No, Dad!" From where he was tied on the truck bed, Vegas whined, worried Archie was upset with him. He made an effort to lower his voice. "No, I mean, it's not like that with Betty. We're just friends, nothing happened. But..." He found himself at a loss for words. 

"You think you two have grown differently since when you were little," Fred finished. Archie nodded mutely, staring out the window as they passed, speak of the Devil, the Cooper Body Shop tow truck as it crawled back to Riverdale, before it faded in the rearview mirror. "That's fair, son. And Lord knows there are people I was thick as thieves with in grade school who I only nod to now if I see them in the street. But you and Betty haven't just grown in different ways over the years, you've also grown together. She's your best friend Arch, that should always mean something unless you two fell out." 

"No, we definitely didn't fall out." Archie sighed. "So you think I'm wrong? Just stick with what I have?" 

"Not necessarily." Fred tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "You're growing up, and from what _I_ remember of junior year, this'll be your first real taste at adulthood. It's fair to be thinking about what you want out of this year, and what you want out of people in your life, if you want them in it at all. That's just part of growing up. Just," he hesitated slightly. "Make sure not to cut people out for a reason you don't even know. Not Betty, or..." He let his voice trail off suggestively, and Archie again turned his gaze back out to the window. 

"I don't know what I want with Jughead, Dad," he said, fighting a sudden swell of sadness in his chest. "Or even if I want anything from him at all. I don't think he wants anything from me, to be honest." Fred hummed, and reached for a moment to put his hand on Archie's shoulder, warm and solid. 

"My advice, son?" Archie nodded. "Don't sweat the things outside your control. Focus on what feels right, and what you can do about it, and if your friends do the same, what's meant to be will fall into place. Even with people like Jughead or Betty or the Blossoms." He nodded again, and turned to smile at Fred. 

The rest of the drive back was short and easy going, and while Fred was feeding Vegas Archie bounded up the stairs to his room, scrolling through his contact list as he went until he got to the letter he really wanted: _J_. 

"Listen, it's me," he said, low and urgent, into the phone. "Yeah, what exactly would happen at those football tryouts you were talking about?" 

* * *

The lights in the windows of all the houses on Elm Street glowed in the twilight, especially those in the Cooper household. Behind that elegantly groomed garden and that big red door was a house cut in the very image of Norman Rockwell's sweetest dream. Shining wooden furniture polished to perfection every week, pictures documenting the cookie cutter life of the all American family of four, an immaculately set table under the overhead lights that illuminated four blonde heads, only three of whom were eating dinner with any gusto. Betty ate, of course, but was mostly picking at the remains of her mashed potatoes, her mind still on her various encounters at the river. 

"Elizabeth." Alice Cooper's characteristic elongating of the _E_ snapped Betty out of her daze, and she glanced towards her mother. Alice always seemed to her daughter to look exactly how Betty herself would look at that age, with only a few differences in the bone structure, the eyes that sometimes looked more blue than green in certain lights, hair a darker blonde than Betty's was. But still, her mother was exactly what Betty imagined she'd see when she looked in the mirror in her adult life, though hopefully a touch less haughty. 

Haughty was more Polly's thing anyway. 

"You're not eating honey," Alice continued, gesturing with her fork. "Do you feel sick?" Betty shook her head, and put another forkful of potatoes in her mouth for emphasis. 

"I just ate a lot for lunch," she said.

From the other side of the table there was a scoff and an "I bet you did," mean and nasty. Betty glared, and Polly glared back with her same green eyes, and Betty fought the urge to seize a dinner roll from the basket it and lob it at Polly's head. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and got up, taking her plate to the dishwasher. She could hear Hal admonishing Polly softly, thank God. If nothing else, she knew she could count on her dad to always be in her corner, even when her sister was being a crazy psycho. 

"It's fine, Dad," she said as she sat back down. With a wide smile, she added, "Polly's probably just tweaking out again." 

"Betty," from Hal, a warning. Betty leaned back in her chair and looked over at her sister, who had two spots of red appearing high on her cheeks. 

"Bitch," she spat out. 

"Polly!" Both she and Betty opened their mouths, though Betty wasn't sure if she was going to beg her dad to get involved or start yelling at Polly some more. Before either of them could say anything, Alice stood up, beginning to clear the rest of the dishes and set down dessert plates with slightly more force than usual. 

"Both of you, enough for tonight," she said firmly, putting things in the dishwasher before getting the pie pan. As she set it down, Betty smelled peaches. "Now I have always been of the opinion that a little sibling rivalry is healthy, and you two look so much alike that getting too close could turn you into the twins from _The Shining_ -" 

"Mom." 

"But I'm tired of entertaining this," Alice continued, cutting a slice and setting it onto Hal's waiting plate. "If you two want to claw at each other like cats, far be it from your father or I to stop you, but nothing short of physical violence is going to get us involved. Right Hal?" 

"I think that sounds like a good idea," he said thoughtfully. Betty decided to keep her mouth shut. "You two'll get past whatever this is eventually, but it's past time you do it on your own." Polly rolled her eyes, but Betty decided to nod and scoop up a forkful of the peach pie slice Alice had put on her plate. She didn't mind keeping the peace where her parents were concerned; it wasn't them she had a problem with. So she ate in silence, and miraculously, so did Polly, who didn't say anything mean or cutting but just clinked her fork rather aggressively from time to time.

Unfortunately for Betty, her mom tended to make her pies sweeter than she would have liked, and she'd soon drained her glass of water. The water jug, however, was out of her reach, nearer to Polly, who seemed aware of that and smirked meanly. Betty turned towards Alice pleadingly. 

"Mom, can I-" 

"If you want something from that side of the table, ask your sister." Polly gaped and Betty glared and her dad just sort of put his head down with a resigned sigh. Alice, meanwhile, looked perfectly contented, diamond engagement ring sparkling on her left hand as she stuck a dainty forkful in her mouth. 

Betty did not ask for the water jug after all, but rather decided to make a lunge for where Polly was keeping it across the table. It was, unfortunately, intercepted by her dad, while Polly lurched backwards from the table, her chair making a horrible shrieking noise against the squeaky clean floorboards. 

"Polly please, I’ve told you not to do that every single meal, it sounds awful," her mom said with a grimace, as if she was unaware of the brief fracas of violence that broke out. Betty glanced at her dad, who did nothing but sternly stare her down until she sat back in her seat with an inelegant thud, crossing her arms over her chest. Polly looked at her expectantly, like Betty was supposed to apologize or something. All she did was set her teeth together and refuse to budge. 

"You're such a _disease_ Betty!" Polly exclaimed as she got up, before stalking off to her room. Betty waited until she heard the telltale slam of the door before she grabbed her plate **_(_** and Polly's **_)_** , put them in the dishwasher, and tried her hardest not to stalk or stomp to her room as well. But for a moment, she paused by Polly's door, still painted black from her junior high emo phase. 

Betty raised her hand, poised to knock. Maybe she should take the higher ground, apologize, try to work out some kind of truce with Polly. It would be so easy just to tap on the door and open a line of non-hostile communication. But something in her head was blocking her from doing it. So instead, she let her hand drop, and went to her room, collapsing in her desk chair. The stars were only just beginning to appear in the sky, but she already felt exhausted. In her pocket, her phone buzzed, and Betty fished it out. 

_[ **ARCHIE** ] Long day? _

Betty turned to look out her window, right into Archie's, where he was tugging a shirt over his head to cover his newly chiseled torso. When his head popped up, red hair messy, he grinned at her. Betty grinned back and moved to sit on the window seat, tapping out a reply. 

_[ **BETTY** ] The longest JFC. You? _

_[ **ARCHIE** ] Didn't have to build any houses so more restful than usual_

_[ **ARCHIE** ] LOL_

_[ **BETTY** ] Hey, are you gonna go to that party the Blossoms are throwing? _

_[ **ARCHIE** ] The Blossoms invited me to a party? _

_[ **BETTY** ] Cheryl said everyone in our grade was invited_

When Betty glanced up, Archie was looking at her quizzically. She shrugged back at him. The mysteries of the Blossom twins and their creepy grandma were forever going to be lost on her as much as they might be on him. 

_[ **ARCHIE** ] Where is it? _

_[ **BETTY** ] At Sweetwater River according to Cheryl_

_[ **BETTY** ] You in? _

_[ **ARCHIE** ] See you there!!_

Betty shut her phone off and waved goodbye, moving away from the window to her bed, leaning back against the pillows and picking at her comforter. Her phone buzzed again, this time from Kevin. He wanted to know if they were still going out tomorrow, if she had seriously invited Veronica to come with, if she was ever going to spill the details about her dinner last night with Archie at _Pop's_. She wasn't sure what kind of details he was looking for; nothing had happened. And she hadn't wanted anything to happen. 

Not _consciously_. 

Once, once long ago, Betty had had a crush on Archie. Very long ago, and never voluntarily discussed or disclosed whenever she could help it, buried under years of friendship and trust and knowledge that he wouldn't see her that way. But it had been long ago, and for more two years Betty had been secure in the knowledge that it was dead and buried in the past, that she'd gotten over it and moved on. Maybe not with the best of people, but there had been no more crush. 

Betty knew she had flaws, everyone did, but shallow wasn't one of them. Whatever was making her feel weird about Archie, whether it was the unfortunate timing of resurfaced feelings or just general teen awkwardness, it didn't have to do with the fact that he was prettier now, more Zac Efron than he'd been all their lives. He was still her Archie. But this had been the first time she'd been away from him longer than a week ever since they'd become friends back as children, and she'd been gone for _three whole months_. And in that time it felt like something shifted, for her, for him. There'd been some change, maybe small or maybe big, and she wasn't sure whether that meant that there'd been a change in her feelings or not. 

Potentially resurfacing feelings for Archie were complicated. And the last thing Betty wanted was for things to be even more complicated. 

* * *

Betty had added her and Kevin to a groupchat last night and broached the subject of hanging out first after perfunctory welcome back texts had been exchanged. Veronica wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it. It had felt nice, to find a sense of camaraderie with Betty, especially given how worried she'd been about it before, and she and Kevin had always gotten along semi-well before she'd left for New York. And there'd been a bit of a mollifying factor in realizing that, despite basically no communication since the end of eighth grade, Betty still remembered her phone number or still had her in her contacts. But Veronica had still been worried about them just wandering around aimlessly around Riverdale with no goal in sight, worried about what the lack of direction might dredge up. So she'd been the one to suggest some back to school shopping and a late lunch. 

Judging by how many exclamation points he'd used, Kevin had been the most on board. 

"What about this jacket?" he was asking now, holding up a dark blue number on the hanger for Veronica to inspect. She looked at it for a moment, furrowing her brow. 

"I vote no," she said as she her head. "I think it washes you out too much." Kevin glanced at the jacket and held his hand against, it. He grimaced. 

"Probably right," he muttered. "Betty? Concurring or dissenting?" Betty peered over the rack of skirts she was inspecting and tilted her head. 

"Uh, yeah." She shrugged. "Sorry Kev!" Kevin put the jacket back where he'd found it, grabbing a similar one but in burgundy. Veronica nodded her approval and gave a quick thumbs up, before adding another blouse to the armful she already had. 

Riverdale definitely wasn't Tornabuoni, the street in Florence that had all the best high end shops there could be in essentially one common location, or even 5th Avenue back in New York, but there was a charm to the local boutiques, and definitely going there with maybe friends rather than simple frenemies was vastly preferable. Maybe Veronica didn't have to buy all that much, but she'd gotten permission from her parents that morning to fork over her American Excess for some of Betty and Kevin's purchases, if they needed it. And there was some kind of joy to walking on Riverdale's main drag, joking with Betty and arm in arm with Kevin as she regaled them with whatever celebrity gossip she could scrounge up from her time in New York. 

"Come on, did you at least meet the President?" Kevin begged. Betty socked him in the arm with a laugh. 

"It's New York, Kev, the National Mall is at least four hours away." 

"Yeah, but there _is_ that big fancy UN building," he pointed out. "Come on Veronica, tell me you went to at least one diplomatic party." Veronica chuckled, tossing her hair with a shake of her head. 

"I was there for school as a teenager, Kevin, I think you're severely overestimating my clout. But," she added, dipping her voice conspiratorially, "there maybe have been at least one dignitary." 

" _Yes!_ " he crowed, sending both Betty and Veronica into giggle fits. Veronica caught Betty's eye for a moment, and was endlessly relieved to find nothing but mirth gazing back at her, and a smile on her face. No malice. Maybe it would have been deserved if it had been there, but Veronica liked that it seemed they could go back to being friends without having to worry about drama or _too_ much awkwardness. 

She wasn't stupid, there'd be some awkwardness. But at least it was manageable, and rapidly fading away the more time they spent together, apparently. 

"So!" Betty clapped her hands together smartly. "What are we doing for lunch? _Pop's_?" Kevin shook his head. 

"Oof, no, I gotta start getting in shape for wrestling season." He waved his hand idly. "And all the veggie burgers in the world wouldn't undo the damage of fries or a strawberry malt. He's just too good." Betty rolled her eyes. 

"Is the _Garden Café_ still open?" Veronica asked. "Come on Kevin, you know you'd eat their salads by the bucketful if you could, and they're literally only, like, a minute away." Kevin turned to Betty. 

"I'm definitely on board for a sandwich there if you are," she said. Kevin threw an arm cheerily over her shoulders. 

"She bankrolls our materialism, divulges gossip freely, and continues to have the best restaurant recommendations?" Veronica swatted at him playfully. "Miss Lodge you really can do no wrong!" 

"Clearly not," Betty added, and Veronica tensed for the hidden barb in that. There was none, so she cheerily held the door open for both of them and was prepared to enter the _Café_ herself when she spotted a dark figure a ways down the street. 

"Hey, I just forgot something, I'll be right back." Betty and Kevin nodded, the former helpfully taking her bags off her hands, and Veronica darted away before Jughead got too far out of her line of sight. "Jughead!" He turned, semi-apprehensively, but relaxed slightly when he saw it was her. 

"Damn, seeing you in daylight really does dispel the mystique of your sudden return," he said caustically. Veronica rolled her eyes. 

"Hardy har." Jughead cracked a minuscule smile, and she used that as her opening. "Listen, I don't know if you know, but there's gonna be this party tomorrow night, down by Sweetwater River. Sort of this end of summer/back to school kind of thing." 

"You've been back in town for, what, two days, and you're already throwing parties?" He shook his head, but his eyes glinted. "You're a marvel, Lodge, really." Veronica swatted at him. 

"Shut up, I was just invited," she said. "Point is, I was wondering if you would want to come. It could be really fun." Jughead shifted his feet and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. His shoulders seemed to hunch a little, like some socially awkward and scowly raven.

"Eh, parties aren't really my thing," he muttered. "I'm a lone wolf that way." Veronica rolled her eyes agin, running a hand through her hair as she did so. "Hey, maybe you were invited, but I know I definitely wasn't. I don't think people are gonna like me crashing with the flimsy excuse of being your plus one." 

" _Everyone's_ invited, Hamlet, it's for everyone in our grade." He chuckled slightly. "So you don't have to tell anyone you're my 'plus one', you can just come." Again, he shifted. "Please, Jughead? For me?" 

"You only just came back!" he pointed out. Veronica remained undeterred. 

"Exactly. Consider it you giving me my welcome back present." Jughead shook his head, letting whatever dark hair wasn't held back by his beanie fall over his eyes. 

"I'm so not giving you a welcome back present," he said with another small smile. "Honestly Veronica, most people might not even want me there, open invitation or not." Veronica folded her arms across her chest and stared, unrelenting, until he met her gaze. He still had those dark circles under his eyes. 

"I want you there," she pointed out. He didn't have a response for that. "I'm not asking you to get on a table and dance for singles Jughead, but it might be nice. And if anyone tries to be an ass, I'll give them a very stern talking to." Jughead continued to stare at her with intense grey-green eyes, and she never looked away. 

"I'll _consider_ it," he said finally, and Veronica smiled wide. "Only because you're insanely tenacious." 

"Oof, that's at least a double word," she fired back, and by Jughead's standards, the smile he gave her was just as wide as her's. "Well, I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow." 

"And if you don't?" he taunted. 

"I'll hound you at school until you beg me for mercy." It was Jughead's turn to roll his eyes, though he at least gave her something like a two fingered salute before sauntering off on his way, and Veronica waved before she headed back to the _Café_. For whatever reason, her steps felt lighter now. 

"Hey, I ordered for you," Betty said as she sat down. "Turkey on rye still good?" Veronica nodded. 

"Absolutely, thanks B," she said, taking a sip of her ice water. Betty didn't even react to the reintroduction of their old childhood shorthand. "So, what were we talking about while I was gone?" 

"How much the Blossoms suck," Kevin said without preamble, and Betty nearly spat up her iced tea. Veronica, however, nodded emphatically. She didn't know much about them beyond what Betty had told her yesterday and what they themselves had divulged at the river, hadn't seen the need to ask her parents about it. But she already felt a distaste for them, and the way they seemed to revel in acting like the only people in on the joke no matter what the conversation was. It felt so unbelievably snooty. 

"Were they like that when they moved here at first, or did it grow and mature, like a fine wine?" she asked. Kevin scoffed, and lowered his voice like he was some kind of conspirator. 

"I bet they were born like that, honestly," he said. "I take it you've had the pleasure, Veronica?" 

"Yeah, ran into them yesterday at Sweetwater," she explained, while Betty made a face. "It was certainly an experience." Kevin leaned back in his chair. 

"Oh yeah, don't doubt it," he said. "I mean, you'd think moving from Montreal to a teeny tiny town would be humbling but they've stayed exactly the same. Might have even gotten worse over time." Betty made a noise in the back of her throat. 

"Yeah, tell me about it," she muttered. Off of Veronica's look, "Look, I don't really like talking bad about people for no reason but sometimes the Blossoms...suck." 

"And you'd have a reason," Kevin added, before yelping sharply and glowering at Betty. "Why'd you just kick me!" Betty was glaring at him too when Veronica turned back to her. Her cheeks turned bright pink with a flush. 

"I mean, it's not that big a deal," she said. 

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Veronica said hurriedly, but Betty waved her objections away. 

"No, seriously, not a big deal," she repeated. "It's just, like, sophomore year Jason and I kind of..." Betty made a series of vague hand gestures, only to turn an even brighter shade when Veronica kinked an eyebrow. "No! No, not that, but we kissed and stuff and I thought that maybe we'd go out, but..." Her voice trailed off, and Kevin put a comforting hand on her's. 

"Didn't end well," he finished succinctly, and Veronica nodded, letting them leave it at that. Relationship problems was something she'd gotten to know very well over the years. 

"That's rough," she said sympathetically. "They really do suck, huh." Betty smiled at her. 

"Thanks V," she said. "But it's fine. He wasn't really my type, and I'm sure we'll all be able to coexist peacefully." It was a noble sentiment, punctuated by the arrival of a waiter with food and refills, and the remainder of the conversation was easygoing, with no more mention of red haired boys, Blossom or otherwise.

* * *

Jughead had read, somewhere, that space was a factor in things like writer's block. He couldn't remember where exactly he'd read it, but he'd definitely read it. Whether or not it was true universally, he wasn't sure, but he knew it wasn't true for him specifically. 

His room was small, just like everything in their house was small, and not exactly the height of luxury, just like nothing in their house was at the height of luxury, but he didn't mind it. He'd never minded it. His cramped quarters had never stopped him from letting his fingers fly over his keyboard with ease, so whatever was causing his writer's block now, it didn't have anything to do with his surroundings. 

Jughead sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. There was nothing he hated more than that infernal feeling when the cursor was blinking after a word, moving neither forward or backward and just...blinking. An electronic metronome of sorts. He reread the last line, the one that he'd been stuck on for the past hour or so, the one he'd been staring at so long his eyes were burning just a bit. 

_It still feels like summer, even with the advent of fall and the new school year, keeping us all in that Labor Day adjacent limbo that happens around the same time every year._ He tapped the enter key a few times, and went back to staring at the cursor. There was a lot more to say, he knew it, but for the first time in a while, he was struggling to find the words. It wasn't a feeling he particularly liked. 

He took a breath, and started typing, crossing his fingers that maybe the magic would just flow out of him. _Riverdale is_... Jughead's fingers paused over the keys. Riverdale...was Riverdale. The town with pep. Nothing bad ever happened in Riverdale. Nothing happened in Riverdale, period. Nothing at all. He sighed, and swung his legs off the bed. Maybe a midnight snack would help, even though it was more approaching one in the morning. He moved carefully; the house was small and creaky and he didn't want to wake Jellybean when he passed her room. Even annoying eleven year olds needed their rest. 

"Jug?" He was just barely into the kitchen, and nearly smacked his head on the ceiling with how high he jumped. "Easy tomcat, it's just me," Gladys said, getting up from where she was sitting at the table. Jughead laughed softly, giving her a quick hug. 

"You scared the Hell out of me, Mom," he said, opening up the fridge and deciding on a yogurt. When he closed it, Gladys was already handing him a spoon and sitting back down at the table. He decided to join her there. 

"Sorry, sorry," she answered. Jughead nodded, sticking a spoonful in his mouth. "But what are _you_ doing up so late, anyway?" 

He swallowed. "It's not a school night, so you can't yell at me for that," he started, and smiled when Gladys laughed. "I've just got some killer writer's block, thought maybe something to eat might help solve it." Gladys hummed, and Jughead continued to eat. 

"Best thing your dad ever did was get you that laptop," she said suddenly, and Jughead stopped cold. "You've been carting that thing around long past its planned obsolescence date." He scraped out the rest of his yogurt rather than respond verbally, opting with just a nod. His mom didn't talk about FP too much, not since he'd hightailed it out of their lives, and he wasn't exactly sure how to respond properly to that. 

"Do you miss him?" he asked, after a while. "I mean, assuming he talks to you as often as he talks to me and Jellybean." _Which wasn't all that often at all_ , he added silently. Gladys stared at him thoughtfully, drumming her fingers on the table. 

"Sometimes," she answered. "But it's complicated, Jug. That's the way adult relationships are sometimes." 

Personally, Jughead saw nothing all that complicated about it. When the going had gotten tough, even tougher than during freshman year, FP had gone. Never mind that they were all dealing with the new reality and trying to get back to normal after the family drugstore went under, and he could have been decent and stuck around. 

"Do you?" Gladys asked. Jughead bit his lip. Did he miss his sucky, deadbeat dad, whose computer he still used nearly religiously?

"Nah," he answered brightly, puffing out his chest. "I like being the man of the house." Gladys shook her head with a smile as she stood, taking his yogurt cup to toss in the trashcan by the door. "Seriously Mom, you and Jellybean are all the family I need." He felt her lips on the top of his head then, and in defiance of all teenage boy protocol, leaned into it. 

"My little man," she said softly. "Just don't grow up too fast. And don't stay up too late," she added, tousling his hair before heading off back to her room. Jughead stayed behind for a moment, staring out the window at his patch of Riverdale, awash in moonlight. It wasn't a cookie cutter picket fence life on Elm Street, but they were making do. On the flip side, at least they weren't slumming it at Sunnyside Trailer Park either. He put his spoon in the sink and headed back to his room, flopping down on his bed and logging back into his computer. 

If he concentrated hard, he could hear Jellybean's faint snores, stirrings from his mom's room as she got into her pajamas. Jughead went back to staring at the cursor next to _Riverdale is_ , biting the inside of his cheek in concentration. What could he talk about? Betty Cooper having been away for the summer? The Blossoms continuing to be Blossoms? Veronica Lodge coming back from New York City? Pop Tate's decision to try a pumpkin spice milkshake come the fall? Some of it might be interesting, a bit more exciting than usual, but nothing insanely out of the ordinary enough to warrant documenting. 

Jughead sighed, leaning his head back against his headboard. Maybe he was just overthinking it. Pulling his laptop closer, he typed out a simple sentence: _Riverdale is as it has always been, with the occasional exception here and there, but still quintessentially Riverdale._ It seemed an apt enough descriptor, all things considered. 

* * *

There was a bit of a bite in the air, given that this party was right on the banks of Sweetwater River, and it was nighttime now. But thankfully, given that summer was still limping along on its last legs, and a rather huge bonfire that Veronica couldn't imagine ever starting herself, it was still decently warm in just a simple button up sweater. And it appeared Cheryl Blossom hadn't been joking, it really seemed as if everyone who would be in Veronica's graduating class was here, drinking or dancing or talking or laughing or, if a group that appeared to include perpetual meatheads like Reggie Mantle and Chuck Clayton and Moose Mason was anything to go by, arranging some sort of midnight swim up the river, just beyond the trees. 

Veronica took a moment to suck in a deep breath of clean river air, to smell the smoke and the leaves on the wind, to watch as orange sparks danced up among the stars in the darkness of the sky. There had been some interesting and intense raves in New York, some really nice higher end galas, but they wouldn't have the same feel as this night at the river would, of that Veronica was absolutely certain. 

"Smile," a voice by her side said dryly, just before she heard a _click!_. When Veronica turned, the girl with the striped hair from the river was lowering her camera. "Sorry, photographer humor," she added. "I'm Toni, by the way." 

"I'm Veronica." She took Toni's outstretched hand and shook it decisively. "You'll have to send me whatever you just snapped when you develop it." Toni smiled and nodded, before slinking back into the crowd. Fortuitous, given that Veronica had spotted Betty and Kevin, who were hovering by the fire alongside Melody Valentine and Valerie Brown. Betty made eye contact, and waved her over enthusiastically. Veronica would have gone over, if only just to steal whatever was in the red solo cup she was holding, before her eyes spotted a knit grey beanie leaning against a tree. 

Jughead wasn't doing much other than look blasé and peer at the party goers, illuminated only by the flames and at the periphery of any kind of social interaction, but at least he was there. Veronica held up a finger to Betty, the universal sign of a request for just a minute, and Betty nodded, before going back to the conversation she was having with the others in her group. Veronica headed over to Jughead, who seemed to have some kind of sixth sense to tell when anyone was considering social interaction with him **_(_** horror of horrors, evidently **_)_** , as his head turned and they locked eyes, light on dark. 

Veronica smiled at him, and he shook his head ruefully, but actually straightened up off his tree. She was imagining that he'd already have some ridiculously, seemingly witty retort at the ready for when she got in earshot, and she was already preparing to beat him to it when a mass of red hair crossed her path, effectively stopping her in her tracks. 

"Veronica Lodge!" Cheryl smiled brightly, face even paler in the light of the bonfire. "Just who I was hoping to run into!" Veronica plastered something that could be assumed as politeness across her face. 

"Hi, Cheryl," she said genially. "Great party." Cheryl's smile got even wider, and she moved to tuck her arm under Veronica's, steering her away from Jughead's direction, and not even back towards Betty and Kevin and co. 

"I'm _so_ glad," she said as she marched them towards a different side of the bonfire. "So, tell me about yourself. I feel like I hardly know you." 

_That's because you don't know me_ , Veronica wanted to say, but she kept that one stuck in her throat. "Not that much to tell," she answered instead with a shrug. "Grew up here, went to school here, my parents-"

"Oh, I know all about that," Cheryl interrupted with a dainty wave of her hand. "I had to do some serious gossip mongering all around town to get the scoop on your basics, Veronica, but I mean the _interesting_ stuff." Veronica tried and definitely failed not to grimace. Hopefully, Cheryl didn't notice. 

"I'm not that interesting." Veronica stopped them, not without effort, by a cooler, and reached in, deciding that a simple Sprite would do the trick for now. She had a sneaking suspicion it was best not to get inebriated while talking to Cheryl Blossom. "You want anything?" 

"Sparkling water would be awesome," Cheryl said, and Veronica handed her one. "And I'm sure you're very interesting." Veronica turned to look at her, and for however mirthful she was, Cheryl's eyes were laser focused on her. 

"What makes you say that?" Veronica asked. Cheryl shrugged delicately and took a sip of her sparkling water. 

"Call it a special kind of intuition," she said, before taking Veronica by the arm again. "Now, I've heard from a little birdie that you spent the last two years in New York. You must tell me your most fascinating stories." 

* * *

Despite Reggie's pushing, Archie hadn't been on board with the idea of plunging through the trees and swimming Sweetwater River while it was pitch dark night, especially when he'd upped the ante and announced that they should make it full blown skinny dipping as well. Instead, he hung back, and definitely made sure to avoid Jason, who for now it seemed was content holding court with some of his sister's River Vixens. 

He waved to Betty when he spotted her, slightly blurry from the heat wave of the bonfire, and decided making his way over to spend time with her. It was always a good call, spending time with Betty. Except that before he could, Archie ran into someone. Or, perhaps more accurately, someone plowed into him, given that his "Sorry!" was reciprocated only by the stab of a long, thin finger to his chest. 

"You better be!" Josie McCoy said, and even though she was smaller and slighter than him, and everything him from her carefully coifed dark hair to her big doe eyes to the soft looking flannel she was wearing, that his mom would definitely say "complimented her skin ton" **_(_** his mom was big into skin tones right now, for some reason **_)_** , Archie still quailed. 

"Oh crap." 

"Oh crap is _right_!" And here, she stabbed at him with her finger again, with such force that Archie actually took a step back. "Seriously, Archie, what the Hell? Why did I have to find out from Cheryl, not from you, that you're going to be trying out for the freaking football team?"

"Jeez, Josie, keep your voice down," he hissed, even though, logically, Archie knew he had no reason to. He wasn't talking about going on the lam or getting in bed with the mafia, it was just a sports extracurricular in high school, for God's sake. "Here." He grabbed Josie's hand, and pulled her slightly away from the throng of people closest to the bonfire. Josie detached herself almost immediately once they'd stopped moving. 

"I can't believe you'd do this to me Archie," she said, crossing her skinny arms over her chest. "We had a deal, and I went out on a huge limb for you for it at the end of last year, remember? You think this happened without me convincing my Pussycats over and over that it could work?" 

"I know, Josie!" Archie took a deep breath, keeping his voice low. "And look, I'm not backing out of anything, all right? There's no guarantee that I'd make the varsity team even if I tried out, which is a super big if by the way. It was just an idea." Josie shook her head, still staring up at him frostily. 

"If we're going to do this, Archie, and I mean really do this, like we said last year, you need to be committed," she told him. "That's what music needs. The Pussycats won Battle Of The Bands last year, and I'm not about to give up that upward momentum for anything, not even your newfound washboard abs. So if you can't handle it-"

"I never said that," he interrupted, feeling his cheeks flame. "Honestly, Josie, this is none of your business, OK?" He moved to go back over to the fire. 

"I mean it Archie," Josie called out, and he turned back to look at her. "Music is my life. And if you can't get that, or start slacking off to run passes or whatever, I'm not gonna bother helping you." Archie didn't respond, just turned around and kept walking. Music versus football had to be the dumbest possible conflict of all time, but apparently that's where he was at, Jason in one ear advocating one thing, and Josie in the other, advocating the opposite. Like some demented version of the shoulder devil and shoulder angel thing. 

But it wasn't just about music and football, if he could only get that across. It was about so much more than that, and after this past summer...Archie shook his head. He wasn't going to think about this past summer, not if he could help it, and definitely not because he was being badgered on different after school activities by people who had no idea about what was going on in his head. 

"Hey, Dilton!" he called, stopping by him. Dilton Doiley looked up from where he was mournfully staring at the contents of his cup over the thick dark rim of his glasses. "What's in that?" 

"Beer and simple syrup, I think," he said. "Not the best flavor combination, but drunk high schoolers think they're geniuses." Archie laughed, and held out his hand. 

"You mind if I swipe it, then?" he asked. Dilton shrugged and handed it to him. 

"Knock yourself out, man," he said. "Just make sure you don't puke." 

"Thanks man," Archie said, before taking a swig and walking away to see if he could find Betty or someone else. He had definitely needed a drink. 

* * *

Archie may have been on his first drink, but on the other side of the bonfire, Betty had just drained her third. 

She wasn't that much of a party person. Melody and Valerie had gone to rejoin Josie nearer to the trees, and Kevin, at Betty's own insistence, was in the middle of the dancing, teaching Ben Button how to dance in a way that didn't make it look like he had a bee stuck in his shirt. Betty didn't mind it, nor did she mind that Veronica was apparently being held up by Cheryl, as evidenced by her helpless shrug when Betty had managed to lock eyes with her briefly. 

The main issue was that beer with simple syrup, while seemingly gross, was just sweet enough to mask her alcohol intake, and Betty was definitely on the cusp of tipsy to drunk, with a firm leaning towards drunk. She tossed the red solo cup over her shoulder and blinked, eyes stinging from the smoke of the bonfire. Her vision blurred for a moment, so she squeezed them shut. When she opened them, someone at the other side was definitely looking at her. Between her inebriation and the heat wave, the figure was blurry, and she could make out much beyond hair color. 

Red hair. 

Something seized up in Betty. From the distance, she couldn't tell the eye color, whether it was icy blue or warm brown, but it suddenly didn't matter. Blame it on the alcohol, whatever, but she was going to go over there and do something, not just stand on the sidelines like meek little Betty always did, the way Polly used to say. If that was Archie, great, she could hang out with her best friend and challenge him to an arm wrestling match just to see the tips of his ears burn red like they so often did. If it was Jason, she was going to give him a piece of her mind and no one was going to stop her. 

Unfortunately, Betty had only taken one step before she collided into Reggie Mantle's solid, leather jacket clad chest. He grabbed onto her before she fell, dropping his own cup in the process. 

"Whoa, totally my bad, sorry Betty." He was definitely not sober, but also not immediately drunk, likely in the same fashion she was. "Hey, you look good tonight, by the way." Betty smiled, but if her cheeks heated up because of that or the heat of the fire, she wasn't sure. 

"You wanna dance, Reggie?" she asked. His smile was big and wide as he nodded. 

Betty wasn't the best dancer, she knew that, but she could dance reasonably well, and she certainly wasn't the worst in the throng of people moving in time to the pulsating music. They'd likely borrowed Dilton's speaker system, she thought belatedly. But she wasn't thinking all that much, she was just dancing with Reggie. Being twirled by Reggie. And then, at some point, she began kissing Reggie. He wasn't a bad kisser, and they were by far not the only people engaging in PDA right now, but still. It was a turn the night had taken that Betty wasn't expecting. But she was rather enjoying kissing Reggie, kept on kissing him, and he was certainly kissing her back enthusiastically, until Chuck crashed into him and forced them apart. 

"Dude!" he shouted, and Betty resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears with how loud he was being. "Ginger Lopez says she has freaking firecrackers!" 

"No freaking way!" Reggie shouted back, the way boys generally did when they were exuberant about things that were definitely going to result in the loss of at least one toe. Betty took a couple steps backwards, and found Veronica in the crowd, miraculously freed from Cheryl. 

"Hey," she said, making her way over to her. Veronica waved, and took another swig from a soda can. 

"Hey yourself," she said, throwing an arm over Betty's shoulder. "You were pulling off some sweet moves back there." Betty flushed, tucking some of the blond strands that had shook loose from her ponytail back behind her ear. 

"Yeah, my sweet moves are definitely done for the night," she answered, breathing in deep through her nose. "I think I'm gonna go sit down for a while and clear my head." 

"Sounds like a good idea." They began moving away from the crowd together, and Veronica tossed dark hair out from in front of her eyes. "Let's sit down and then I'll go find a water, or at least something non alcoholic." Betty nodded appreciatively. Someone in the sea of people shoved a cup into Veronica's hands, and she physically recoiled after taking one sniff.

"Jesus, what's in these?"

* * *

It was the perfect place to spend time, before school started, Sweetwater River was. The perfect quiet hang-out, the perfect clandestine rendez-vous destination, the perfect nature attraction, the perfect picnic spot. And now, the absolute perfect place for an end of summer, back to school party, with Riverdale's best and brightest packed in together, dancing and laughing and yes, even drinking, the sparks from the fire mixing with the stars in the sky. The river was a gentle rush in the background. 

Maybe not exactly Jughead's cup of tea, but he couldn't deny that there wasn't anything too atrocious about being here. No, he wasn't a party person, and yes apparently Cheryl Blossom was monopolizing the time of the person who'd _actually_ invited him, but most people were simply ignoring him, giving Jughead ample time to people watch and enjoy his lonesome with the heat of the fire and the cool of the wind. And when he stared up at the night sky and the swirl of stars, even he had to admit that it was very pretty. 

The people watching wasn't a bad way to spend the time, from the jocks' rambunctious carousing to the cheerleaders' elaborate dances, from the huddles of geeks to the gaggles of preps and even the occasional straggling stoner. Veronica had been right; Cheryl really had invited everyone to this shindig, and they were all entering the early hours of the morning together. And yet, despite all those people, when the crowd shoved someone out, likely due to lack of room, allowing them to essentially barrel into Jughead, that someone had red hair and newly broad shoulders. 

"Easy there," Jughead muttered, helping Archie steady himself. Ideally, that would have been the end of that, but when Archie straightened up, his eyes, overly bright thanks to alcohol consumption, shone additionally with recognition. 

"Jug," he said simply. "You're here." Jughead's mouth twitched slightly. 

"Astute observation, Archie," he replied, shifting on his feet a bit. "Yeah, I'm using this party as a science experiment. The observation of humanity at its basest." Archie made an odd noise, like he wanted to laugh and wasn't sure if he should. Jughead peered at him closely. He definitely wasn't sober, like the vast majority of people here, but in all likelihood it was just a quick buzz. He didn't look super sloshed, and back when they'd known each other, Archie had never really been the type to overindulge that much. 

"Well, it's good to see you man," he said awkwardly, running a hand through the red mess of his hair. Jughead shrugged, crossing his arms. 

"Even the nighthawks should mingle with the common birds, right?" Again, Archie made that half laugh noise, and Jughead thought about attempting a smile. If he tried, it likely would have made him look pained or constipated or both. 

"Listen, Jug," Archie began, before Jughead decided to cut him off. 

"Let's not right now, dude, shouldn't we be trying to enjoy the last dregs of our summer?" Perhaps he'd been a bit too sardonic, because Archie's typically friendly eyes narrowed. 

"Jesus, Jughead," he muttered, shaking his head. "I was just gonna say..." His voice trailed off. Maybe he'd forgotten what he was going to say already, or maybe he hadn't even really thought through what he was going to say once he'd gotten a conversation ball rolling. Jughead stared at his feet. 

"What, that you missed me or something?" He was half joking, but Archie let out a long, thoughtful sigh. For a moment, neither of them said anything. 

"Do you miss me?" Archie asked. Jeez, the second time in twenty four hours that he was being asked about who he missed and who he didn't. But unlike with his mom last night, Jughead couldn't summon up a quick and easy response to Archie's question. And he didn't want to lie, not to someone who'd used to be like a brother to him, even if they weren't anymore. 

"Doesn't really matter," he mumbled, tugging his beanie further down over his hair. "Go enjoy your party, man." Archie sighed again, and walked off, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Jughead sighed too, and glanced at his watch. Even without looking at the actual numbers, the fact that it was already blinking in the A.M. region, and that sunrise happened early during summer in Riverdale, was enough to convince Jughead that he should start heading home. He pushed himself off his tree, and started making his way through the crowd, passing by people he knew well, people he sorta knew, and people he barely knew at all. Cheryl Blossom must have had quite the reach and network to set all of this up. 

He'd just spotted Veronica, sitting on a bench next to Betty Cooper and clearly not noticing him, when he heard it. At first, Jughead thought he'd imagined it. Or maybe he'd misheard. Maybe a tree had fallen in the forest and this time someone, multiple someones, had been around to hear it make a sound. Maybe they were on the cusp of discovering a new species of bird with a strange call, one that sounded like a loud balloon pop mixed with a whip crack mixed with the sound of a firecracker going off. But then, the logic kicked in, and Jughead froze, in the middle of the crowd. 

He wasn't the only one. 

"Was that a gunshot?" For a moment after Archie's question, which rung as loud and clear as the first noise, there was nothing but silence, as the crowd of teenagers ran through the possibility in their minds, and how they should react.

Then, the reaction. It was mild bedlam. 

_"There's no way it was a gunshot!"_

_"No it totally was!"_

_"Oh my God I've GOT to go!"_

_"Omigod we're gonna DIE!"_

_"I'm gonna go see what it was!"_

_"Don't go OVER there, are you stupid?!"_

_"I'm calling my parents!"_

_"I have got to get out of here before my PARENTS show up!"_

_"Is anyone missing?!"_

_"Has anyone seen-"_

_"We need to get out of here BEFORE the shooter comes back!"_

_"I'm calling the cops!"_

_"Someone hide the beer!"_

_"Seriously, where ARE you?!"_

Jughead knew, logically, that he should leave. He knew that had been a gunshot; he wasn't stupid, and non stupid people didn't sit like lumps on a log waiting to get shot at some more. But as everyone moved and jostled and shouted over each other, all he could do was move a bit a ways back so that he didn't get crushed. For a moment, he locked eyes with Archie, with Veronica, with Betty, and in all of them was mirrored the same worry and confusion. 

Fortunately, it was the cops who arrived first, a fleet of Riverdale's finest headed by Sheriff Keller, who momentarily ran straight to his son and made sure he was alright, before darting off into the woods with half his men to see what was going on. Parents followed, some of them spiriting their kids away in their cars, others running straight to them. Someone cordoned off the area with yellow caution tape, and in a split second the banks of Sweetwater River, the place to party, became a crime scene. 

Gladys arrived while Keller and his men were still searching in the forests along the banks of the river, during Deputy Minetta's headcount of all the kids, as the fire continued belching out smoke and sparks into the lightening sky. 

"Oh Jug!" she cried, wrapping her arms tight around him. For a moment, Jughead clung back, before disentangling himself, scanning the crowd. 

The Blossoms were together, close to the river's edge. Mary Andrews was talking to a cop while Fred stood next to Archie, a hand on his shoulder. The Lodges and Coopers were huddled by their daughters and Kevin, arms wrapped tight around the children. Josie and her Pussycats were with Valerie's parents and little brother Trevor. Reggie was with his dad right next to Toni Topaz and her uncle, of all people; Moose and Chuck and a host of cheerleaders had long been driven home. Finally, Jughead landed on Deputy Minetta, on the worried look on his face as he finished his count and started talking to the other officers. Jughead bit his lip, going back to staring at the crowd, trying to remember who he'd seen leave with their parents or after the shot, trying to see if anyone was missing. 

And then, over all the hubbub, he began to hear it. Sheriff Keller's voice, along with several others, thin and hardly discernible as the sky turned grey with the cloudy dawn. 

" _Dilton! Diiiiiiiiiltoooooooon! Dilton Doiiiiiiiileyyyyyyyy! Diiiiiiiiiiiiltooooon!_ " 

"Mom, I'm gonna go sit down for a little bit," he said, and Gladys immediately followed him. He ended up sitting on a bench next to where Betty and Veronica were with their parents, and soon after he was joined by Archie by Archie. He could hear Fred and Gladys's hushed tones, but not what they were saying. His eyes were stinging with fatigue. 

"Excuse me, everyone!" Jughead stood when he heard Sheriff Keller, standing by one of the big trees up the bank a little bit. In his hands, Jughead saw something that looked like a wallet, and a jangle of keys. "Parents, my officers and I are gonna need to talk to every kid who's still here! We'll try and get this done as quickly as possible, but until you've been cleared by a member of the RPD, nobody goes home! Kids, just tells us everything you can remember about last night, and whether or not you interacted with Dilton Doiley!" 

That sent off a fresh round of panicked talking, one that Jughead could barely pay attention to, people asking about Dilton, parents talking, kids chattering nervously to themselves. His mom found an officer fairly quickly, and even though Jughead felt half dead on his feet, he made sure to say everything he knew, everything he'd done and everything he'd been able to see. Finally, Gladys steered him towards the car, and they took off towards home, right around the time when Sheriff Keller officially declared Dilton Doiley as missing to his officers. 

Jughead must have fallen asleep a bit during the short drive, because he started awake to a gentle tap on his shoulder from his mother. 

"Let's get you into bed," she said softly as he stumbled out of the car. He gave Jellybean a quick hug as he walked through the door, gave another one to his mom, and then went straight to his room, sitting down hard on his bed. _What a night_ , he thought to himself, and all he wanted to do now was sleep for the next week. But when Jughead's eyes landed on his computer, covered in its stickers and quotes, he was seized with a completely different need, almost wild in its intensity. He opened the laptop, pulled up his Word document, and systematically began deleting everything in it page by page, paragraph by paragraph. Soon, only one line remained. 

_Dear Dad..._

For a moment, he bit down on his lip, hard. Then, Jughead highlighted and deleted that too, and finally stared at one completely blank page. He'd been fighting his writer's block for a week, trying to find the right words to keep on typing his lengthy missive out to FP, unsure of what he really wanted to say or get as a response, and all to no avail. But now, at long last, the words really did come pouring out, and his fingers flew across the keyboards as he began to tell his tale, his sleepiness momentarily forgotten as he fought to at least begin chronicling all the drama and mayhem. 

_From a distance, our town presents itself as so many other small towns before it, all over the world. Safe. Decent. Innocent. But that's only how people want it to be. Or think it is because they're young and don't know any better. Or because they're older and don't want to know any better. At a certain point, though, if you look close enough, you start seeing the shadows underneath it. And sometimes? The shadows take over. And you're living in this place you don't recognize anymore. And you're feeling a lot of things. But safe isn't one of them._

_The name of our town is Riverdale._


	2. in life's hard school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title taken from the john greenleaf whittier poem "in school-days". 
> 
> writing cheryl is harddddddd but at least y'all get some of the mysteries answered in this chapter (because i cannot pace anything)

What a strange world they were living in, that barely a week after Dilton Doiley had gone missing, the night they had all heard a gunshot on Sweetwater River, the kids of Riverdale were preparing for the first day of the new school year. There had to be some social commentary in there somewhere, on how, no matter the nature of the tragedy or sudden shift in status quo, humans still hung on to paltry traditions like their lives depended on it. Maybe if Dilton had vanished at Christmas, they would still be putting up trees and stockings and all that jazz. 

Not that Jughead could judge. For neither the first nor the last time, he'd spent practically the entire night at _Pop's_ , focused solely on his laptop and tapping away at the keys until the wee hours of the morning, chugging coffee cup after coffee cup until the sky was just beginning to go from dark to the palest of early morning blues, and he'd gone back to his house just to take a quick shower and make sure everything was in his backpack before he went into the kitchen to grab a sandwich for lunch. 

"I thought you'd gorged yourself on Pop's burgers all night," Glady said from where she sat at their small table, sipping her coffee. Jellybean, meanwhile, was busy attacking her cereal with a vengeance. 

"All caffeine, Mom, don't worry," he said, wrapping his sandwich in a plastic bag and shoving it into one the pockets of his backpack. "You know me, I've got to stay fighting fit all day, every day." Gladys shook her head with a laugh, waving him over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

"See you after school," she said. 

"How come Jug gets to stay out the entire night no matter what but _I_ have a bedtime?" Jellybean griped, stirring her Fruit Loops around aimlessly. Jughead reached over to muss with her braids, and she didn't quite manage to duck in time. 

"Because you're a baby," he answered, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "I'll see you guys this afternoon," he called, ducking out the door. Jughead, unlike what he assumed to be the majority of his peers, didn't ride in a car to school, either his own or his parents'. His mom needed the car to get to work and drive Jellybean to Riverdale Elementary, and they definitely weren't rolling in dough to the point where he could get his own car, so Jughead walked. He didn't mind it, Riverdale High wasn't a huge trek for him, and he enjoyed the solitude. 

The sun was fully up now, bathing everything in that pale morning glow, the sky mostly clear though occasionally dotted by some floating cottonswab clouds. It seemed, to Jughead, like the perfectly average day. You'd never know, looking at the outside, what was going on. 

They hadn't found Dilton. They hadn't even found any hint of Dilton, beyond his wallet and what were later proven to be his house keys, that night at Sweetwater River. Jughead had done his best to lurk around where he could, see if anything had happened, but that particular stretch of the river's edge was still plastered with police tape and dotted with cops, and he didn't have nearly enough clout to go banging on doors or talk to the Doileys the way people at the _Riverdale Register_ did. So he sat at _Pop's_ , or on his bed and typed, wrote down everything he knew or remembered from that week when Veronica came back and Cheryl threw her party and Dilton vanished and they all heard a gunshot. 

It was the gunshot that worried Jughead the most, as he trudged through the streets of Riverdale. They'd all heard it, and they'd all told the cops about it, but they'd found no gun, nobody who could have shot the gun, or any bullets or casings anywhere. That worried him. 

Jughead sighed, and breathed in deep, absorbing the crisp morning air and that faint, dewey smell that seemed to persist everywhere until basically noon. It was shaping up to be one of those classic days, summer on the very cusp of fall, teetering on the knife's edge of it, warm but with a hint of the sunset tones of fall starting to creep in. And if the weather and the flora didn't clue the unsuspecting observer to the end of summer and the beginning of autumn, Riverdale's fauna, the kids of the town, flocking to Riverdale High, certainly did. 

Riverdale High was a tall, red-bricked building, and students were already walking, despite Jughead's belief he'd gotten there earlier than he had to, pouring out of their parents cars or emerging from the parking lot or descending from the early morning school bus, hugging friends they hadn't seen in weeks or friends they'd just seen yesterday, milling on the steps or on the quad as Jughead navigated his way up the staircase and into the building. Most of the snippets of conversation he heard were about who did what over the summer, where they went, how much they liked it, but he heard the occasional snippet of " _Cheryl's party..._ " and " _a gun..._ " and " _no one knows..._ " and " _oh my God Dilton..._ " as he made his way to his locker. 

_No one knows indeed_ , Jughead thought to himself as he pulled his books out of his bag and got ready for homeroom. He certainly didn't know, and it was becoming a thorn in his side like nothing else. 

* * *

"Just wait here and your tour guide will be out shortly," Miss Bell said, giving Veronica a little pat on the shoulder before going back to her desk. She sighed, resisting the urge to slouch in her chair and instead just leaned her head back against the wall. It had been the administration's idea to give her a tour of Riverdale High, considering that she'd never actually gone, and her parents had thought it would be a good idea. Veronica thought it was a bit stupid, but she was one teenager and didn't have that much clout among adults. Which meant that she was missing homeroom to sit in a chair and listen to the occasional sound of the door opening and closing as she shut her eyes and waited for her guide. 

"Hi, Mrs. Crabapple ran out of this week's assembly schedules, can I get ten more?" Veronica's eyes flew open, just as Archie Andrews, or at least something that looked a bit and sure sounded like Archie Andrews, turned his direction, and his brown eyes grew wide. 

Of course, this was Archie Andrews, even Veronica could see that. He had the same face, the same voice, the same red hair, but he was more chiseled, more muscular, more filled out, and taller to boot. And he was staring at her with quite the surprised look on his face. 

"Veronica?" She stood, self consciously brushing any wrinkles out of the skirt of her dress. 

"Archie, hi." Just like with Betty, that first day at the river, Veronica felt weirdly self conscious. Like when she'd met friends of her father's, when she was little, and knew she had to behave on her best behavior, at least at first. But instead of important businessmen, this was _Archie_. 

"Wow, uh, hey." He rubbed the back of his head, hunching his shoulders. "I didn't realize you were back in town, sorry. I would have totally come over and said hi, you know, I just didn't..."

"It's okay," Veronica said with a wave of her hand. "Seriously, don't worry about it." She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, scanning about the office to see if maybe something there would provide conversation fodder while he was still here. "How are you?" is what she landed on. _Lame_. 

"I'm good," Archie answered. "Yeah, just getting ready for school, football, stuff like that." 

"Football?" Archie flushed red. "No, I endorse this!" she added hurriedly, and was relieved to see him smile. "I think it could be a good fit for you. Especially now." Archie's smile got that crooked slant, the one it did when he was being mischievous. 

"Why, because of my bulging muscles?" he joked, flexing his arm. Veronica laughed, a real one. For a moment, it felt nice, easy. Until Miss Bell broke the bubble, coming around and handing Archie a stack of papers. 

"Here you are, Mr. Andrews," she said genially, before returning to her desk. Archie looked at the papers, then back at Veronica. 

"Wouldn't want to keep Mrs. Crabapple waiting," he said, and Veronica nodded again, taking a step up. 

"I'm sure she'd be very crabby," she answered dryly, and Archie laughed again, moving to the door in long strides. He had definitely grown in the two years since she'd left, he was nowhere near this tall when she had known him. 

"It's good to have you back, Veronica." She smiled at him again, though the hand clutching at her books tightened its grip. 

"Thanks," she said. He stepped forward, the arm not carrying his papers stretched out somewhat hesitantly. Veronica was a bit hesitant too, when she wrapped her own free arm around him, unused to the feeling but not wanting to be a total bitch and leave him hanging. But it was nice and warm and solid, and not a bad hug, all things considered, even if a bit strange. When they parted, he fired off another grin at her. And with that, he left. Veronica breathed out, and relaxed her muscles. Archie Andrews. Definitely not what she was expecting. But apparently, like Betty before him, not trying to hold past behaviors against her, which she did appreciate. 

Now all she had to do was get through this idiotic tour thing and then just go about her school day like normal. 

"Veronica!" Unfortunately, that didn't seem like the case. Because Veronica recognized that voice, and when she turned, Cheryl Blossom was smiling a red lipped smile at her, immaculately coiffed and perfectly dressed as she'd been the two other times Veronica had interacted with her. 

"Hi Cheryl," she said, hefting her books and grabbing her bag. "I didn't know you did student tours and the like." Cheryl tossed her red curls. 

"One of the perks of being junior class president," she said, opening the door for Veronica and then swiftly walking beside her. "So anyway, Riverdale High School first opened doors in 1941 and clearly has not been redecorated since. Of course, I'm assuming I don't need to give you the whole history of the town, considering you'd likely know it better than I do." Veronica, who had been staring at the walls and letting Cheryl's information wash over her, turned in her direction. 

"Right, you only moved here recently," she remembered. "Yeah, we had a few trips here when I was in middle school, so I know a bit." And, just like when on those occasional middle school trips, Riverdale High still imparted the same feeling on Veronica. 

It felt like wandering through a movie set with " **AMERICAN HIGH SCHOOL** " printed on the door to the soundstage in big bold letters. Everything about it was so quintessentially...the way it should be. From the red brick exterior to the shining floors under blinding fluorescent lights, flanked by pale blue lockers, walls tacked with posters for various clubs and activities, entrances to picturesque classrooms and labs and administrative offices, it felt exactly the way it was supposed to. The perfectly normal high school for the perfectly normal small town kids living their small town life at the edge of the world. 

"No need to bore you then," Cheryl said with a graceful wave of her hand. "Thank God for that." Veronica smiled slightly, and looked at the slip of paper Miss Bell had given her. 

"Tell you what," she said magnanimously. "I have zero clue where my locker's supposed to be. It'd be awesome if you could show it to me, and tell me whatever tour stuff you're supposed to for those areas of the building on the way. Win win scenario for both me and our class president." Cheryl smiled again, but not the one Veronica had grown used to from this past week, bright and candied and apple red. This one was slower, almost serpentlike, with that hint of cunning she'd had while interrogating her at the party at Sweetwater River, before everything had gone haywire. 

"Very conniving, Miss Lodge," she said appreciatively, glancing at the numbers on the paper. "Let's go." 

It wasn't the longest of walks, and Veronica made sure to nod appreciatively whenever they were in front of a classroom as Cheryl dutifully rattled off the school script until they arrived at what Cheryl declared to be her destination. 

"Have you considered any extracurriculars yet?" Cheryl asked as Veronica opened her locker and started arranging her books. 

"Um, no," Veronica answered with a shake of her head. "Honestly, haven't considered it at all." 

"Cheerleading," Cheryl said instantly. "You must. I think it could be a really good fit for you." Veronica nodded, grabbing a notebook and deciding to head straight for the gym for assembly rather than attempt to bumble her way through homeroom. 

"I'll think about it," she said, and Cheryl nodded, tossing her hair again. 

"Please do." Veronica had been ready to head off before she'd spotted, at the other end of the hall, a tall thin man, dark skinned and bald headed, dressed in a suit and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Cheryl?" Cheryl turned, and followed her gaze with a somewhat confused expression on her face. "Refresh my memory on who that is?" 

"Principal Weatherbee?" she asked, bemused. "Well, he's the principal. You didn't see him when you were in the office?" 

"No," Veronica answered, shaking her head. "No I didn't." Cheryl shrugged and continued walking away, while Veronica took a deep breath. She definitely hadn't seen Principal Weatherbee in the office, but she'd seen him before. At Sweetwater River, the day her car broke down, arguing with a woman and not realizing half of his words were floating back to an unsuspecting passerby on the wind. 

* * *

"So," Kevin hissed, leaning left far out of his seat so he could moisten Betty's ear with his need for intrigue. "I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you all week since the party, and we _need_ to talk." Mr. Beaker wasn't doing much beyond drone about this week's assembly schedule and that he considered a missed homeroom to be a missed class, so Betty leaned towards Kevin too. 

"Not my fault," she whispered back. "My mom basically had Polly and I on house arrest after what happened at the Blossoms' party." Kevin shuddered delicately, and honestly Betty couldn't blame him. Their classmate going missing out of the blue, while a gun went off? It was ghoulish. 

"Speaking of the Blossoms' party though," Kevin continued. "I can get pretty drunk, but I definitely wasn't drunk enough that night to hallucinate what I know I saw. What was that with you and Reggie Mantle?" Betty flushed and resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. 

"Nothing," she mumbled, glancing away. But she could still feel Kevin's eyes boring into her skull, and if she could have flushed harder, she would have. "OK, look," she put her pencil down, and leaned as close to Kevin as she could. "It was just, I was tipsy, and Reggie was there, and it was a really weird night even before things got spooky. That's really all it is." 

"You shoved your tongue down Reggie's throat just because he happened to be there? That's it?" Kevin's eyebrow quirked up quizzically. "Come on Betty, I know you better than that." He reached out and tugged at her ponytail playfully. 

"Sorry Kev, that's really it." Betty shrugged. "I mean, Reggie's cute and stuff but he's just not really my type." Both of Kevin's eyebrows were at his hairline now. 

"What human is going to look at Reggie and say he's not their type?" Betty rolled her eyes and shrugged. Sure, Reggie was objectively good-looking, with his high cheekbones and aquiline nose and full lips and strong jaw and head of perfectly styled dark hair, no one was denying that. Still didn't make him her type when she wasn't acting like a loon at a party. "Is it because he doesn't have red hair?" Kevin teased, and Betty elbowed him with a scoff. 

"Quit worrying about my romantic prospects," she said, leaning back into her chair. "I've already got enough on my plate." 

"How?" Kevin asked, taking a quick peek to make sure Mr. Beaker was still monologuing. Betty sighed. 

"I mean, you saw how Polly was holding court this morning, right?" she asked, and Kevin grimaced sympathetically. Betty had felt that surge of anger she got sometimes, when she'd tamped down emotions day after day and it felt as if they were going to explode out of her, like a soda can shaken one too many times. Betty had spent time by the stairs talking to Kevin and Archie, while Polly had gotten some gaggle of girls near one of the tables on the quad who hung onto her every word while she recounted her summer, blond hair sleek and shining and looking like the Queen Bee of Riverdale High's current senior class. 

"Yeah," Kevin said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. Betty squeezed back. 

"She's gonna end up captain of the River Vixens and the undisputed number one and I'm just gonna have to sit there and watch it happen and chew through my tongue until she graduates." Betty didn't like complaining or whining, but the prospect of Polly lording her "I'm the baddest bitch in school" attitude here and at home was enough to drive her mad. "It's gonna be insufferable." 

"Maybe you can throw a milkshake at her if she gets too hoity toity," Kevin suggested. Betty choked back a laugh as the bell rang, and students started gathering their stuff to head over to assembly in the gym. 

"Wouldn't that be the dream?" she sighed, shoving her folders into her backpack. "But you know my mom would kill me if I behaved that out of line outside the house." 

* * *

Archie hadn't paid any attention to the remainder of homeroom once he'd given Mrs. Crabapple the schedules. He'd sat in his seat and propped his chin on his hand so he'd look invested and promptly spent the next who even knew how many minutes thinking about the fact that Veronica Lodge was back in Riverdale and all that came with it. She looked good, of course, because she was Veronica and always looked good, and he was actually happy to see her after years of not seeing her at all. But this came with questions, like why had she come back? The reason that she'd left in the first place, was it what he thought it was or something completely different? Did Betty know? 

He was startled out of his reverie when the bell rang, and quickly scooped up his stuff and left so he wouldn't be carrying them around for the entire assembly. Thankfully, his locker was close enough to the gym that he wouldn't be running back and forth, and Archie quickly put everything he needed in there, and when he closed the door he found himself making eye contact with Jughead. 

Archie wasn't entirely sure what to do, if they should talk, if he wanted to talk at all. But Jughead made the decision for him, ducking his head and shouldering his backpack and hurrying away. And for some reason, Archie couldn't help but feel his shoulders slump, almost as if in defeat. The conversation they'd had the night of the party at Sweetwater River was the most they'd spoken to each other in almost a year. 

"Yo Andrews!" He didn't have long to brood on the broken friendship between him and Jughead, as Reggie Mantle slung one arm over his shoulder and pulled him flush against him. Jason was leaning against the wall, all long and lean and icy. "Blossom tells me you're trying out for the team this year," he said boisterously, and Jason nodded along with him. "Dude, you are ready for football. Look at you, this is absolutely insane!" Archie laughed, and pushed away from Reggie, straightening his shirt. 

"It's just from working construction, Reggie," he said jovially. "You know, with my dad." 

"Uh huh." That was from Jason, who straightened up off the wall. "Any interesting houses?" he asked, with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. Archie felt the tips of his ears burn. 

"Not my thing," he mumbled, but Jason and Reggie shared a look. "More of a fantasy for you guys to salivate over than my reality, sorry." Reggie nodded appreciatively, while Jason continued staring. 

"So, we're gonna see you at tryouts tomorrow?" he asked. Archie paused. 

Jughead wasn't the only thing that had stayed on his mind since Sweetwater River. The conversation he'd had with Josie at the edge of the fire was an equal weight on his shoulders. He valued what she said, he valued her insight on music, and he didn't want to disregard her or let her down. But it was, unfortunately, putting a strain on whether he was actually willing to try out. He wanted to do it, needed to, almost, but he felt that same want and need for the music and the time spent with Josie perfecting it.

"We'll see," he said, hoping his smile slanted crooked with mischief and intrigue, and he didn't look nervous. Reggie nodded, seemingly placated by his answer, but Jason put a hand on his shoulder, like he was trying to appear big brotherly. It didn't really work. 

"Well, hope to see you there," he said, before slapping Reggie's shoulder. "Come on man, I don't want to spend the next twenty minutes sitting under the bleachers with the losers and burnouts." Reggie laughed, and the two walked off, and Archie sighed his relief. He'd have an answer. Eventually. He just needed to think on it. 

He would have started making his way to the bleachers, except that he saw the door to the janitor's closet, propped open, and suddenly felt queasy. Not that there were any kinds of foul smells emanating from the janitor's closet, but just seeing it...Archie shuddered and, with a shake of his head, made his way over to the gym. 

* * *

" _O hail / o hail / Our fair Riverdale..._ "

Veronica managed to find a seat on the bleachers, with Kevin and Betty, right when the school choir was starting their melodious rendition of _Our Fair Riverdale_ , drifting up into the air as they all sat down and Veronica prayed someone had cleaned these since the last basketball game they'd been used for. As the choir continued, Veronica glanced around.

She caught a glimpse of Archie, with his characteristic red hair, which was still giving her a slightly strange feeling in her stomach. She saw Chuck and Moose sitting together, looking thoroughly uninterested in the goings on around them. She saw Josie and Valerie and Melody, each wearing cat eared headbands. She saw Polly Cooper, sitting next to Cheryl Blossom of all people, but their backs were both completely ramrod straight with tension. She had even seen Jughead, lounging under the bleachers for some reason, as she'd made her way up, though he'd at least tipped his beanie at her when they'd made eye contact. 

Veronica also strained for a sighting of Principal Weatherbee, just to see if there was anything about him that intrinsically said " _I have strange conversations in the woods next to the river early in the morning_ ". Considering that all she really saw was the shiny back of his head, not really, as far as she could tell. 

". _..here friendships started / near or parted / always stay with you!_ " The choir finished in a grand crescendo, and the woman, Miss Grundy was what they'd said when they brought the choir students on the little stage, directing them stepped aside to sit down in the chairs with the rest of the teachers, and Veronica nearly had another heart attack.

Because, if her memory served, and it generally did, it was Miss Grundy that Weatherbee had his strange Sweetwater River conversation with. Veronica gripped her seat, and took a deep breath. The music teacher and the school principal, arguing in the midst of nature. That was yet something else she'd have to figure out. 

"Thank you to Miss Grundy and our lovely Riverdale High choir," Weatherbee said over the muted round of applause that followed. "First, a reminder that sports tryouts begin tomorrow afternoon to fill new team member spots, and that any attempts to try out after that must be arranged with the coaches directly. And now, on a more somber note, a word from Mayor McCoy." Mayor McCoy, clad in what had to be a designer dress of rich purple, daintily stepped onto the stage in her heels. No one applauded this time. 

They all knew why she was here. 

"Good morning students," she said graciously into the microphone. "I should start off by saying that this isn't an ordinary first day of school we've had in the past, and we shouldn't pretend that it is." For a moment, the silence weighed heavy. "As you know, your classmate, Dilton Doiley, has been pronounced missing since last week. I want to assure you that Sheriff Keller and his force are doing everything that they can to make sure that, not only will they find Mr. Doiley, he'll be brought home safe and sound. But if you remember anything from that night, or think you might know something, no matter how unimportant you think it is, please do not hesitate to contact either Sheriff Keller or my own office." 

"Has your dad told you anything, Kev?" Betty asked, leaning in close. Veronica too turned her head, tuning out Mayor McCoy. Kevin looked uncharacteristically grim. 

"He won't tell me much," he admitted. "Or anything, really. But from what I can gather thanks to, like, a whole lot of eavesdropping, it's not super great." He dipped his voice lower, and both Betty and Veronica strained to hear over the applause given as Mayor McCoy finished and Weatherbee took the stage again. "I heard my dad use the word _vanished_ a lot last week." Veronica shuddered. 

"Scary," Betty muttered, and both Kevin and Veronica nodded in agreement. 

Vanished classmates, teachers arguing in the woods. What the Hell was even going on in this town? Veronica turned back to Weatherbee, trying to see if she could make out anything on his face. After all, she likely wasn't going to be getting much from the back of Miss Grundy's head. Unfortunately, nothing. 

So preoccupied was Veronica that she didn't even notice when Weatherbee dismissed them until Betty, already standing, tapped her on the shoulder. But even as she followed her friends down the steps of the bleachers and went off to her next class, she was still thinking of Weatherbee and Grundy and Dilton, couldn't quite shake some instinctive gut feeling that these weren't all isolated incidents, even if that made absolutely no sense. 

* * *

His mom had packed him a lunch before she'd gone into the office today, and that was what Archie was holding as he glanced around the quad, figuring out where he should sit. It was one of the things he hated the most about every school year, and would likely remain that way until he died. Fortunately for him, Betty's blond ponytail was easy to spot, and he was able to make his way over there quickly enough.

She was, however, accompanied by Veronica and Kevin, and for a moment Archie hesitated. Joining that particular trio could just be a match in a powder keg type of situation. _Or maybe_ , a small voice negged in his head, _you've all grown up since middle school and it won't be a problem_. For once, Archie didn't have an issue with being negged by his brain. 

"Mind if I join?" he asked, and Betty immediately moved over to make room for him. Veronica waved slightly, and Archie waved back, hoping he didn't look like a total buffoon doing it. "What're we talking about?" 

"Kevin's trying to restart the wrestling team," Betty said, and Kevin stuck his tongue out at her. "I think you should go for it, I really do!"

"It's a lot of commitment," he responded. "You know, I have to be really dedicated if I want to do it." 

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Archie muttered. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, or if he did just very quietly before returning to the conversation at hand, but Betty had the ears of a bat apparently, because she instantly turned towards him. 

"Everything OK, Arch?" He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Yeah, don't worry about it," he said instantly. "Just trying to figure some stuff out. It'll get sorted eventually." Betty continued peering at him. "Seriously Betts, don't worry about it." 

"I'm not worried about it," she responded. "Just..." She chewed on her lip for a moment, clearly thinking. It was one of the best things about Betty, in his opinion, that she always made sure to think clearly and carefully about stuff. 

"Maybe we can help you untangle it," Veronica, who up until that moment seemed very interested in her salad, added. "Three heads are better than one, as they always say." 

"Who's the _'they'_ who says that?" Kevin quipped, and Veronica waved her hand around airily. 

"Unimportant," and Archie choked down a laugh. "So, anything we can help with, Archie?" He took a bite of his sandwich, and already felt the tips of his ears burn. 

"Last year, I kind of promised Josie McCoy that I'd do some AP music tutorials with her and Miss Grundy, so that we could both work on music and improve and get credit for it," he admitted. The small negging voice in his head helpfully chimed in to remind him that Josie was also kind of cute, which definitely hadn't hurt in his decision to move forward with that. 

"Arch, that's amazing," Betty said with a smile, and even Kevin and Veronica looked like they thought it was a good idea. Archie held up his hand. 

"Problem is Jason Blossom," he added, and slid a quick glance over to Betty. He didn't know much about her Blossom fiasco, but he didn't want to bring up bad memories any more than he could help it. Betty caught him looking, and patted him briefly on the arm. "He wants me to try out for the Bulldogs tomorrow, but that would definitely interfere in the music tutorials, so now I'm just kind of..." Here he shrugged helplessly. 

"Troy Bolton in every way," Kevin said, and scoffed when Veronica elbowed him in the ribs. "It's a compliment! Zac Efron is a beautiful man!" Archie's ears were definitely burning again, and Veronica rolled her eyes. 

"I'm assuming you don't have a clear preference?" Veronica asked. Archie shook his head. "So, let's parse this out. Why do you want to do music?" 

"I've kind of always been into music," he explained. "It's always been relaxing and something that I've liked doing, and from what I can tell so far I think I'm good at it." 

"You are, unfortunately, good at it," Kevin interjected. "Again, Troy Bolton." Archie couldn't help but smile in spite of himself. "So, music is your passion." Archie nodded. "What about football?" For a moment, Archie cast about, trying to find the best way to explain it that didn't make him sound insane or reveal too much. 

"I want that feeling I got working for my dad," he said slowly. "Physical activity that was so grueling and all encompassing that it was all you could focus on. You know, just clean and easy and clear." 

"And you think you can have that with football." Betty didn't tick her voice up as if it was a question, but Archie nodded all the same. Kevin hummed, but Veronica was silent, tapping her finger against the table thoughtfully. 

"Any advice?" he asked the group. 

"Why not both?" She said it slowly, and Veronica was looking at him with deep dark eyes as she did. "Seriously, isn't there a way that you can keep on doing your music tutorials _and_ be a part of the football team at the same time? We're not living in a John Hughes movie here people!" Kevin looked slightly mournful at that statement. "Honestly Archie, if you're worried about pigeonholing yourself into one thing, stop worrying about it. Let yourself be all things." When he turned to Betty, she nodded her assent, blond ponytail bobbing. 

"Both," she agreed, fixing him with her green stare. "You need to do what makes you happy, Arch. And if there was a clear choice that your music made you happier than wanting to try out for the Bulldogs, I'd say go for that. Just like I'd say become Mr. Football God if you were dying to do that and music was just sort of _meh_ for you. But it's not, right?" 

"Right." 

"So if you can find a way to do both, you really should. Maybe it won't be easy," Betty conceded with a shrug, and if anyone knew about stretching themselves to multiple extracurriculars, she did. "But just try it. You might regret it if you don't." 

"While I've always been more of a Tom Brady fan rather than a One Direction aficionado, I'm also throwing my hat in the 'do both' ring," Kevin chimed in. Veronica looked at Betty and mouthed _Tom Brady?_ incredulously, which made it Kevin's turn to elbow her. "Go for both, Archie, seriously." Archie ran a hand through his hair. 

"Overwhelming majority for 'both' leaves me with one clear option, huh?" 

"I'd say duh but that might be rude," Kevin said. "But I mean, well. Duh." Archie flushed again as he took the last bites of his sandwich, and Betty nudged his shoulder with her's slightly. 

"Why don't you go try and find Miss Grundy right now?" she suggested. "Maybe try and get this all squared away before football, so you don't have to worry about it." 

"You think so?" Betty nodded, nudging him again. "OK, Betty, quit trying to shove me off the bench!" 

"Then go," she said, mock stern, and he turned to Kevin, who nodded enthusiastically. Veronica chewed on another bite of salad, looking thoughtful. 

"Betty's right," she said finally. "We hate to see you go but love watching you leave, and you should probably get that sorted out as soon as you can. You know, for simple peace of mind purposes." Archie felt himself flush again as he ducked his head, gathering up his things and giving Betty a quick, impulsive hug. As he left, he heard laughter and hushed conversation from all three of them, and when Archie turned back briefly, they were smiling and gabbing like Veronica hadn't even been gone for twelve hours. 

_It was weird_ , he thought to himself as he made his way through the quad and back into the building, hoping he could catch Grundy before lunch ended. The conventional logic should have meant that they were all nervous or unsure of themselves or even at each other's throats. But it was a good weird. The conventional logic was not being adhered to. And maybe they were also acting a bit, Archie knew that he was, ever so slightly, but it also felt genuine, somehow. Like the time and aging had really helped, and they could all go back to being easy friends with minimal fuss. 

Almost all of them, at least. He hadn't seen Jughead at either assembly or lunch. Maybe that was one friendship that would permanently fall to the wayside. 

So caught up was he in his own thoughts that he didn't notice who was in front of him until he almost crashed into her, and she had to reach out to steady him with her free hand. 

"Watch where you're going, kid," she said genially, brushing strands of silver hair out of her face. For a moment, Archie didn't recognize her until he read the name _Miss Beazley_ on her name tag, but he recognized the mop and the **CAUTION: WET FLOOR** sign she was carrying with her. His mouth felt dry. "Oh, don't worry, someone just spilled some soda in the science lab," she said, watching him eye the mop. 

What was Archie going to tell her? That this wasn't why he was feeling himself freak out? That he didn't even know why he was freaking out, except that he sort of did? That he knew that freaking out at all was incredibly stupid? That he'd been hoping against hope that when he passed by one of the janitor's closets today, or throughout the next week, he'd see someone in there, stocking and shelving, but that they'd look different than her? 

Instead, he smiled, hefting his backpack and hoping he didn't look completely freaking insane. 

"Thanks Miss Beazley," he said, stepping around her. She nodded and went on her way, and Archie couldn't help but look behind him as she rounded the corner, and then to his left, where one of those janitor's closets was, firmly shut and locked so kids didn't sneak in like they'd used to as recently as a couple years ago. And for reasons he'd dare not touch, his heart was racing. 

* * *

Jughead was never really a fan of eating lunch on the quad. He generally ended up eating alone anyway, so what was the point of doing it at some table in front of everyone. Normally he ate in a classroom of a teacher he knew liked him, or under the bleachers, and in some memorable middle school incidents, janitor's closets, before they'd started being militant about locking those. 

Fortunately for him, he and Toni Topaz shared the history period before lunch, and she'd told him she was going to be developing pictures in the darkroom, and so now he was sitting on the floor, back leaned up against the wall, the room awash in shades of black and red as Toni did her thing. 

"If you get crumbs on the floor, you're the one who's going to have to clean them up," she warned, fiddling with the knobs and moving some stuff around. Jughead wasn't entirely sure how film development worked in the darkroom. "Like, picking them up one by one on your hands and knees kind of clean them up." 

"Bite me," Jughead said blandly, taking another bite of his sandwich. There was, of course, no real tooth behind his words, anymore than there were with her's. Ever since sophomore year, he and Toni had sort of banded together, a two lone wolves kind of situation, enjoying their solitude together. They were both creative, what with Jughead with his writing and Toni with her photography. If he had to be in a one friend type of situation, Jughead was fine with Toni Topaz being that one friend. 

"I know that it was a horrible night, all things considered," Toni said, pulling some of the pictures out from their tubs and hanging them to dry. "But these are actually turning out so good." Jughead shoved the last of his sandwich in his mouth and scrambled up, dusting off his hands. Toni looked at him sternly. 

"It's symbolic, don't worry, I made sure there are no crumbs," he said. "Now, can I see?" Toni nodded and took a little step backward, going back to her knobs and switches while Jughead looked at the pictures she'd taken of Cheryl's party at Sweetwater River. He knew she liked to develop in color, so hopefully when they were done drying he'd get a better look than he was getting now, with everything washed to red in the darkroom. 

Toni was right, they were really good. He'd seen some of her other work, and had always known she'd had a good eye for photography, but these were some of the best he'd ever seen from her. Perfect snapshots of a typical all American high school party, before things had gone horribly wrong. There were the still life shots of a red solo cup on the ground, one of the coolers with its slowly melting ice, the roaring fire. The action shots were amazing too, from Moose Mason in the middle of stripping off his shirt for some reason to Betty Cooper and Reggie Mantle dancing to Cheryl Blossom waving her hands animatedly as she talked to her brother. Toni had even gotten a brief snapshot of the moment Jughead had steadied Archie, after he'd been plowed to, and he fought the urge to glare at her, feeling his eyes suddenly sting for a moment. The problems between him and Archie were only a big deal to, well. Him and Archie. 

Jughead turned his attention to a picture Toni had clipped up closer to the beginning of the line. He hadn't seen much of Veronica at the party, given how determinedly Cheryl had been on her arm, and the fact that as soon as he'd noticed she was free the entire night got thrown into chaos, and everything he'd seen of her, he'd seen from a distance, through the haze of heat and smoke and people. And now this picture, clear and crisp, Veronica framed by the trees in the background and illuminated by the fire, with her hair loose and brushing around her shoulders, chin tipped upward and expression peacefully neutral as those dark eyes, framed with thick lashes, fixed themselves on the sky. He could see a smattering of stars and sparks amongst the darkness, even though everything was still lit red in the darkroom. 

"Having fun there?" Toni teased, and Jughead ducked his head, thankful that the lighting hid his now ruddy cheeks. 

"Shut up," he muttered, turning to other photos.

There were more pictures of the crowd, bodies frozen in time around the fire as they drank and talked and danced. That was when he spotted it. In the background of a snapshot of Josie and Melody and Valerie, skulking, with his dark slicked back hair and thick framed glasses, was _Dilton Doiley_ , looking uncomfortable and like he'd rather be anywhere else. That alone would have been fine, though incredibly morbid, Jughead thought to himself with a sneer, except that he'd seen Dilton close to that location, but a bit nearer to the action, just a few pictures ago. 

"Jones?" Toni snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to her. 

"Are you developing these sequentially?" he asked. When she tilted her head at him, "you know, in the order you took them and stuff?" Toni looked at them briefly, and then nodded. 

"Yeah, I think so," she answered. "Why do you ask?" Jughead grabbed her elbow, ignoring her exclamation of indignant " _Hey!_ " and pointed at the two pictures of Dilton. 

"You see Dilton Doiley in the background, right?" Toni peered closer, and then her eyes widened. 

"Jeez," she murmured. 

"We need to find all the pictures you have that he's in, even if he's just in the background doing nothing," Jughead said decisively, seized with a sudden madness. Sheriff Keller and the rest of the Riverdale police force hadn't found anything to help Dilton, not as far as anyone was remotely aware of. Maybe they'd find something in these that could clue the cops into what happened, or just anything at all, no matter how minuscule, that could point them in Dilton's direction. And search they did, sweeping their backpacks off a table to set down any picture they found with Dilton in the background, trying to keep a simple left to right timeline from the first to the last, until they'd gathered all of them. 

There weren't many; Toni had moved around a lot during the party and Dilton had never been the focus of the shot. But there were more than a couple, showing him walking about, behind many, looking uncomfortable and like he'd rather be anywhere else. And then the final one, showing him once more in the background of a shot of Tina Patel chugging an entire can of beer, walking in the direction of the tree line that would soon be crawling with cops searching for him and finding nothing but a wallet and keys. Jughead stared at it, feeling his pulse quicken. It felt weird, that this might be the last confirmed picture of Dilton before he vanished, and the only two people seeing it were him and Toni, alone in the darkroom in order to avoid spending lunch feeling ostracized. 

"God." Toni's voice was dry and rasping. "This is kinda creepy." Jughead nodded. 

"Do you remember when you took these?" he asked. "At what time exactly, or how much time had elapsed between them or anything like that?" Toni shook her head, chagrin writ plainly on her face. 

"Sorry, no," she said. "I wish I did, but my camera doesn't come with anything that would tell you date or time, and that's not something I generally leave room in my head to keep track of in the long term." Jughead thinned his lips, his mind going a mile a minute. When had Dilton decided to go into the trees? How long had he been out there before the gunshot? Had something caught his attention and made him go? God, could someone have _lured_ him out there? 

"You mind if I take these?" he asked. Toni looked at him askance. "Just the Dilton ones, just in case I can ask someone and figure out when this was." For a moment, they just looked at each other, Toni unsure and Jughead almost pleading. Finally, she nodded. 

"Go for it," she said, standing back as he began unclipping them and stuffing them, as carefully as he could, into a folder before shoving it back into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. 

"Thanks Toni," he told her, waving goodbye. "See you at lunch tomorrow!" Toni waved, still staring at the photos hung on the hook, chewing on her lip. Jughead opened the door as narrowly as he could so as not to disturb anything in the darkroom and slipped out, squinting at the sudden influx of fluorescents and daylight. For a moment, he scrubbed his eyes, and then adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. He had zero clue where to start, he realized as he started walking, and the end of lunch bell could ring at any minute and propel him to his next class. Rounding a corner, Jughead took a moment to stop and suck in a deep breath. Maybe after school he could see if he could talk to Sheriff Keller or Mayor McCoy, though without a sense of time and an explanation for why Dilton had left the party, that might not buy much. 

He hadn't been paying much attention to what was in front of him, too consumed in his own rather grim thoughts, so when he heard the scuff of shoes in what he'd assume to be an empty hallway, Jughead almost jumped out of his skin. But it wasn't some nefarious boogeyman, it was Archie, drinking in deep gulps from the water fountain. Even from a distance, Jughead could hear his ragged breathing. 

When Archie stopped drinking, he took in a deep breath through his mouth, and cupped some of the water in his free hand, splashing it on his face. Jughead knew enough about Archie from the years of their friendship, before it had fallen apart, to know that when Archie was scared or anxious or nervous, he had a tendency to overheat. For a terrible moment, the folder with the pictures of Dilton felt like they were burning a hole in his backpack, as Jughead remembered that Archie, too, was at Sweetwater River that fateful night. 

"Archie." Archie turned, and locked brown eyes on him. Jughead couldn't read the expression in them, not anymore, and the thought was disconcerting. "Something going on?" Archie shook his head, and swallowed thickly. Jughead could see his Adam's apple bob. 

"No," he said. Jughead tried to stop his mind from casting back to those pictures again. This was _Archie_. They might not be friends, but that wasn't a moral failing on Archie's part, or an example of burgeoning murderous psychopathy. But that didn't necessarily mean Archie wasn't hiding something, especially as his gaze slid away from Jughead's, guiltily landing on the propped open door to the janitor's closet. 

"You sure?" Jughead tried again, and Archie looked back at him. "Nothing you wanna tell me, old buddy old pal?" For a moment, he opened his mouth, eyes flicking over Jughead's face. And this time, he could tell what was going on. Archie wanted to tell him, or at least part of him did, before something clouded over and his face hardened.

Archie shook his head, not even bothering to answer, and grabbed his things, keeping his eyes downcast, stalking past Jughead and rounding the corner, close enough that Jughead was wondering if he was trying to purposefully bump into his shoulder like a douchebag. But there was no collision, and Archie was gone in a blur of white muscle tee and red hair. Jughead made sure he didn't turn his head to watch him go. 

He was being paranoid. There was no way that Archie was involved in what happened to Dilton, Jughead knew that. _After all_ , he reminded himself, _it was Archie who had first asked the fatal question:_ **_was that a gunshot?_ ** But that didn't mean he didn't have his own secrets, maybe even unnerving ones. And if his reaction was anything to go off, the tear between wanting to talk and determination not to, Jughead would bet what little money he had that Archie was definitely hiding something. 

* * *

That night, Riverdale was bathed in the glow of a clear skyed half-moon as the last of the warm yellow lights in the houses and shops switched off, leaving the town bathed only in car headlights and street lamps and the moon and stars. There was a bite of cold in the air, a sign that summer was finally fluttering away on the winds of autumn. According to Veronica's phone as she lay in bed, struggling to sleep and checking her apps only when sleep eluded her, it was cool to the point of cold outside, and also nearly midnight. Veronica flopped back down amongst her pillows with a deep sigh. 

It had been a good first day, all things considered. She and Betty were still on track to a solid friendship as if nothing had ever happened, they were forming a nice group with Kevin, and it appeared even she and Archie were on good terms. Classes were decently interesting and not too hard, and even some of the extracurriculars had nabbed her attention. It was exactly the way she would have wanted a first day at Riverdale High to go. But still, her mind was racing. 

Miss Grundy and Principal Weatherbee. The music teacher and the school principal. She doubted there was anything illicit or scandalous going on between them, which was a shame as that dealt away with the easiest explanation for what she'd seen at Sweetwater River. After all, what possible reason could there be for two teachers, before school was even in session, to be arguing with each other? And Veronica was pretty sure that they were not having disagreements over music appreciation class curriculums. 

With another sigh, she pushed herself up into sitting, running a hand through her hair. It had been bothering her all day, despite distractions like lunch with her friends and the first batch of homework and dinner with her parents. It had been sitting there, in the back of her head, ever since Cheryl Blossom had first told her who Principal Weatherbee was. Veronica took her phone off her charger and opened it, flipping through pages until she got to her contacts. There was no way she was going to be able to find out anything about Weatherbee; by nature school principals were more aloof when it came to relationships with the students, which put asking classmates out of the questions, and the only adults Veronica was on good enough terms to broach something like this with was her parents. And she definitely wasn't going to tell them. 

But Miss Grundy was different. Miss Grundy was a music teacher, and did a lot of one on one lessons, so someone, somewhere, in Riverdale High's student body, might know more than Veronica did. In fact, she was sure that someone had a close enough affinity to Miss Grundy to know, or even maybe ask on her behalf. It was the problem of who, Veronica knew, as her finger hovered over the name _Archie Andrews_. 

Were they on friendly enough terms? Yeah, clearly, and while lunch had been a bit awkward at the beginning, it had felt fairly easy and normal for the vast majority. But still, Veronica couldn't help a thrum of nerves. Was it enough to dim her curiosity and leave her tossing and turning all night before she tried to sleuth results out on her own tomorrow? Could she maybe try and see if she could make the only other confirmed Grundy pupil, Josie McCoy, a friend rather than a simple acquaintance and get on her case about it? Could she wait that long? 

No. Veronica tapped on the message icon, and typed out a quick text. 

_[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] Hey Archie, it's Veronica. You up?_

It seemed good enough, and if he didn't respond before tomorrow she'd make up some excuse about forgetting something dumb, like the fall play schedule. But barely two minutes after she'd hit send, Veronica's phone was already doing the telltale two buzzes of a received text, and she opened it hurriedly. 

_[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Yeah, still up, everything ok??_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] Oh yeah, nothing dire, I just have a quick q if you've got time_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Not falling asleep any time soon_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Shoot_

Veronica chewed on her lip for a minute, trying to figure out how best to respond without sounding like a paranoiac or completely insane. Poor Archie, if he was staring at his phone, watching that bubble of three dots disappear and reappear over five times as she tried to make it work! 

_[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] How close are you with Miss Grundy? Considering you're doing tutorials with her and stuff?_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Ummmmmm_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Not like super close but I've been in her classes since last year_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] She's all right_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Why?_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] I was just wondering if you knew anything about her_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Not that much tbh, just that she took over the music department three years ago from her mom. I think her name was also Miss Grundy but she looked like a lot older???_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] Worth a shot I guess_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Sorry, wish I could help more_

Veronica couldn't help but smile at her phone. It was so quintessentially Archie, that sweet, aw shucks, all American boy next door attitude. And while it was a bit disappointing that he didn't have some sort of hot gossip on Miss Grundy that could help Veronica untangle her mystery, his willingness to help in whatever way he could still warmed her heart. 

_[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] Don't worry about it!_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] Just had something bothering me about her and Weatherbee and thought you might have info_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Weatherbee??_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] Long story_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] LOL_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] Well, lemme know if I can help you with anything else_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] That's really nice of you Archie, thanks_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] No problem_

 _[_ **_ARCHIE_ ** _] And it's good to have you back home Ronnie_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] Thanks Archie, really_

 _[_ **_VERONICA_ ** _] Now try to get some sleep so you're ripe and ready for football tomorrow!_

Veronica set her phone down, suddenly feeling infinitely more tired and more contented than she had been when she first switched out her light. She didn't know any more than she had before she first texted Archie, except that Miss Grundy had an elderly mother, which was hardly salacious in and of itself. But she'd exhausted the easier options and had a clearer path forward now, and the easier option had, in fact, been easy. She had, of course, been a bit nervous, and if Archie's texting voice was anything to go off, so was he. It was, after all, the first real and solitary one on one conversation they'd had in two years, given how short their first meeting in the administrative office was. 

That seed of hope she'd gotten from re-befriending Betty, watered by hanging out with Kevin as well and lit by welcoming Archie at the lunch table, was starting to sprout in her chest. With their group, with those moments she had with Jughead **_(_** _of all people!_ **_)_** before school started, with her somewhat managing to navigate the Blossoms, with her home life working out well with her parents, things were actually looking up, permanently. Lying back down and tugging the blankets up to her shoulders, Veronica turned to her window and stared out at that pale half moon, hanging in the dark, until her eyes stung and the lids became heavy, at long last, with sleep. If she could only figure out the mystery of Miss Grundy and Principal Weatherbee's conversation, things would actually start getting close to perfect. 

* * *

"I grabbed some coffees through the Pop's drive-thru before heading to school," Veronica said, sitting down on the couch in the student lounge and handing Betty, writing in a notebook next to her, a hot cup. "Hope you needed a latte." Betty smiled as she grabbed at it, taking off the top and inhaling deeply. 

"Please," she said, leaning back on the couch cushions. "I had my first AP Bio class yesterday and he already gave us a mountain of homework even though we haven't even done a full 24 hours of schooling yet." Betty sighed, flipping her notebook closed and blowing on the coffee. "Guess my mom was right," she said begrudgingly, and Veronica bit back a smile, taking a drink from her cup. She'd left Betty's plain, but her's had a dash of hazelnut syrup. "They are gonna start treating us like adults this year, now that colleges are looking our way." 

"Just don't let Alice hear you say that," she joked, and Betty laughed, before taking a long sip of her coffee in turn with a sigh. 

"I didn't even really ask yesterday," she said when she'd swallowed, looking semi-apologetic. "How was your first day at Riverdale High?" Veronica blew on her coffee again and took a sip of her own before answering. 

"It was good, actually," she said thoughtfully. "Felt a lot more Mayberry than I was used to in New York," and here Betty laughed, ducking her head, "but I liked it. My first day at Léman was insane, and not in a good way." Betty shuddered, before draining the rest of her coffee in one go. 

"You never actually told me you were at Léman," she said, tossing her cup into the nearby garbage can. "Not to go full Kevin, but I'm gonna need you to tell me some of those stories one day because I've heard that that place is nuts!" Veronica laughed this time, hiding her grin behind her coffee cup before a swirl of red and white came into the student lounge and Betty tensed up. Cheryl, immaculately clad in a sleeveless red blouse and a black skirt that would have made Hermione Lodge call her indecent, sat down in one of the plush chairs, crossing her legs gracefully at the ankle and putting her hands on the armrest, like a queen holding court. 

"Veronica!" she said brightly. Less brightly, "Betty." Veronica, rather than answer, took the opportunity to drain the rest of her latte. "So, what are you two hen pals gossiping about?" 

"Just stuff," Betty mumbled, staring at her closed notebook. Cheryl rolled her eyes ever so slightly, before looking at Veronica with sly expectation. 

"Just some horror stories from my time in New York," she replied, before standing with a quick "Excuse me," to go and throw away her coffee cup, knowing her aim wasn't as good as Betty's. Maybe then Cheryl would take the hint. 

But alas, when she sat back down Cheryl was leaning forward in her seat, intent on Betty, who seemed to be answering entirely in monosyllabic sounds. Veronica leaned forward in her seat, fixing her eyes on Cheryl, who reclined back in her chair lazily. 

"Can I ask you something kind of blunt?" she asked, and that serpentine gleam was back in her eye almost instantly. 

" _Please_." Veronica was almost taken aback by the intensity of her reply. How fake was her bright and nice act, then? How tiring? 

"What's up with all of this?" she asked, waving a hand in Cheryl's general direction. "Like, I don't know you that well and I really don't want to make assumptions, but I'm pretty sure you're not as candy apple red on the inside as you are on the outside. So what's been up these past couple days? Why have you been-"

"Courting you?" Cheryl finished. She sighed when Veronica nodded, and her expression changed. No false brightness, but something different. Vulpine. "As I was explaining to dearest Betty, Coach Appleyard is having a sort of contest to decide on who gets to be captain of the River Vixens." When Veronica looked to Betty, mouthing _Appleyard? Vixens?_ in confusion, Cheryl sighed in irritation. "Our cheerleading team and our coach. I'm on it, and I'd be a shoe in for it if only..." 

Cheryl stood suddenly, pacing, back ramrod straight and a flash of irritation on her face. Veronica waited until she sat back down, glancing at Betty, who could only shrug. 

"Unfortunately," and here she glared at Betty with a sudden venom, "your dumb cow of a sister is also demanding the captain position because she's a senior and all that peroxide seeping into her brain has turned her from Polly Pocket to a wannabe Jennifer Check. So Appleyard is having us compete to see who can recruit the most girls for tryouts this afternoon and despite the fact that I'm better than her and have been doing this longer and have been more dedicated to the team than Polly ever was, if I don't win that _insufferable bitch_ is going to captain while doing nothing for us the entire year. No offense," she added belatedly to Betty, who shrugged again. 

"None taken," she said blandly. 

"So you want me to try out for the cheerleading team?" Veronica asked. Cheryl nodded, looking more miffed now than angry. 

"Even Betty I can deal with, if I must," she said, long suffering. Suddenly, with a smart clap of her hands, she stood again, and turned abruptly, sweeping out of the room with the loud click of her heels and her long red ponytail swinging behind her. Veronica sighed, and leaned back against the couch cushions. 

"That's a brewing catfight if I ever heard one," she said, turning to Betty. "Not that I'm not necessarily on anyone's side, but you have to admire Cheryl's ambition and drive." 

"Definitely," Betty said, reaching up to tighten her ponytail. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind trying out for the River Vixens." 

"Really?" 

Betty nodded. "It would look great on my college applications, and if my fate isn't in Polly or Cheryl's hands, there's a slightly lesser chance of humiliating rejection if I do." 

"Kind of with you on that," Veronica agreed. "Not necessarily worrying about your sister or Cheryl, but I actually did a season of cheerleading at Léman and I really enjoyed it. Might have actually tried out of my own free will if Cheryl hadn't pushed so hard." 

"I still might, honestly." Betty chewed on her lip for a moment. "And honestly, I know it's awful to even think of doing that to Polly, because she really wants it, but Cheryl would be a better captain than her. But part of me doesn't want to just hand over that win to Cheryl. You know?" Veronica nodded, twisting her fingers together. And then, suddenly, as sharp and clear as the ring of the school bell to signal homeroom, a lightbulb of an idea went off in her head. 

"Betty," she said, grabbing her wrist. "Do you really want to try out for the cheerleading team?" Though somewhat startled, Betty nodded swiftly. "Then let's start prepping moves, and follow my lead. I have a plan." 

* * *

Homeroom had been thankfully uneventful, and he hadn't had any more weird moments since his run-ins with both Miss Beazley and Jughead yesterday. Now, Archie was thankful that his first period after homeroom was free, free for him to spend some quality time alone in the music room with just his guitar for company. 

He wasn't singing anything of his own creation, or even anything just that specific, had just spent nearly the entire period strumming and humming and realizing, to his immense relief, the fire that had first been lit inside of him last year hadn't died out over the summer. He'd let his mind clear and gone where the flow of the music had taken him, and it had felt _incredible_. Like his blood had turned to liquid gold in his veins. Not because Archie thought he was singularly gifted, he knew that he had to work at it, but because of how much he had enjoyed himself for the past several minutes. 

Plucking at his strings, Archie bit down on his grin. Yesterday's lunch gang was right; there was a way he was going to do both music and football and not run himself ragged. He just had to make sure that both Josie and Miss Grundy were on board. He continued on for a few more minutes, humming aimlessly along with a melody he wasn't sure was anything really concrete, just something stuck in his head recently. 

He had maybe about five minutes left of free period when he checked the clock on the wall next, so it seemed like a good time to start packing up his guitar in its case and heading to class. He had an arrangement with Miss Grundy to leave his music things in the music room for the school day, and was propping the case up against the wall as unobtrusively as he could make it when the door clicked open and both she and Josie walked in. 

"Archie." Miss Grundy looked surprised, while Josie looked immediately suspicious. "The bell rings in five minutes, you should get to your next class." 

"I was just about to," he said, standing and brushing his hands on his jeans. "But just before I do, can I talk to you real quick? You and Josie?" Grundy nodded, but Josie just folded her arms, still looking at him like he was about to whip out a katana and butcher them in the music room. 

"What's on your mind, Mr. Andrews?" Grundy asked, clasping her hands together. 

"I don't know if Josie told you, Miss Grundy, but I'm going to be trying out for the football team this year, and I think I'd have an actual shot at making it. And I think football is something I need to do this year." Archie felt his face flush slightly; he knew it sounded stupid and hokey, but there was no better way to describe it. Josie, meanwhile, was glaring daggers, while Grundy remained neutrally thoughtful. "But I still really want to do these music tutorials with you and Josie, and I'm willing to put in the work. And I know that you did some early morning tutorials with Tomoko Yoshida last year, Miss Grundy. So..." Archie twisted his hands together. "If we can do that, I'll come in as early as you want me to. And Josie, that gives you the entire afternoon free to work with the Pussycats instead of splitting your time." 

For a split moment, he was terrified that he'd be laughed out of the room, and all his hopes would be dashed. He needed football, that all consuming exercise that would keep his mind focused only on the game at hand, and not get himself trapped with the sticky thoughts in his head. But music gave him joy, gave him passion, and he didn't want to give that up just because of the secrets swirling around inside him. But Josie wasn't glaring anymore. She actually had something like a small smile on her face, eyes trained on him. 

"I like it," she said, turning to Miss Grundy. "It's, like, the perfect solution." Archie turned to his teacher now, eyes pleading. 

"It can work," Grundy said thoughtfully, and Archie sighed in relief. "We can keep our same agreed upon schedule of Monday-Wednesday-Friday. Does seven thirty work for you, Mr. Andrews?" 

"Totally!" Here, Grundy actually cracked something that could almost be a smile. 

"I'll start getting the paperwork sorted with the office, and make sure you both get credit for it." Archie smiled and grabbed his discarded backpack, slinging it over his shoulder and making his way over to the door. But Josie was still looking at him, and he stopped in his tracks near her. 

"You OK, Josie?" he asked. She nodded. 

"I underestimated you, at Cheryl's party," she said, looking more relaxed than he'd seen her in recent weeks. Archie waved his hand. 

"Ah, happens to the best of us," he joked, and Josie actually laughed. 

"What I'm trying to say, Archie, is that I never realized you were so dedicated to this," she explained. "How determined you were to commit to this." Archie was never the best at picking up when someone was flirting with him, never had been, but he could have sworn that Josie was batting her eyelashes at him. And for some reason, he was in an eyelash batting mood. 

"Yeah, I'm full of surprises," he said with a smile, and Josie chuckled slightly. 

"Well, all I'm saying is that I appreciate a good work ethic," she said as the bell signaling the end of first period began to ring, and moved over to start setting up a mic stand. Archie was ready to leave, before he caught a glimpse of Miss Grundy scribbling on some papers.

Veronica must have wanted information on Grundy really bad, if she was texting him at nearly midnight for it. And everything Archie had said was truthful, he didn't know all that much about his music teacher, or any of his teachers in fact, but he had a golden opportunity to help Veronica here, with Miss Grundy at his fingertips, and he might be able to fill that thing out, if not the Weatherbee thing. That was its own separate category of weird. 

"Hey, Miss Grundy?" he began, moving closer to her. 

"That was the bell, Mr. Andrews," she said, without looking up. "Best get to class." 

"Right." Defeated, Archie turned away, giving a brief wave goodbye to Josie and mollifying himself with the fact that he scored a pretty major win. "Thanks." 

* * *

"You're going to be late for class, young lady." Veronica looked to where Miss Bell was looking at her, thick with disapproval, and put on her best sheepish smile. 

"I know," she said, not pointing out that the first bell had only just rung and there was a five minute pass period, and that plenty of students were still milling about outside. "It's just, I don't know if you remember, but I'm new here, and I feel really stupid but I forgot my locker combination because I just got it yesterday and all my notebooks are in there and I really don't want to go to class and not be able to do anything and then have no notes." Veronica briefly thought about turning on some waterworks, but decided that was overkill. 

"OK, OK," Miss Bell said, turning to her computer. "What's your locker number, Miss Lodge?" 

"141," Veronica answered immediately. Miss Bell dutifully typed it into her computer, while Veronica prayed to any and all gods available that the Internet at Riverdale High would decide to be a complete bitch and move as slowly as it possibly could without being completely broken. 

It would give her enough time to scan the doors and see which office was Principal Weatherbee's, and once she quickly found that, peering into the window as she watched him write on piles and piles of papers. 

Veronica wasn't sure what she'd been hoping for, when she'd been in first period and could only think about Weatherbee and Grundy and their argument by Sweetwater River, but it had been eating at her. So the minute the bell had rung, she'd gathered her things and bolted for the door, deciding that now would be a convenient time to "forget" her locker combination and go to the office to figure out what it was. Maybe she'd find Weatherbee and Grundy arguing once again by the desk, or having a tense meeting by the big window into his office. Maybe he'd be talking to Miss Bell and say something incriminating right as she'd walked through the door. 

Typical Nancy Drew kind of things. 

Unfortunately, Veronica was not Nancy Drew, wasn't even a redhead, and all Weatherbee did as Miss Bell pulled up her combination on the school files was take a phone call where she couldn't read anything on his face. Nor could she read his lips, which only solidified her belief that lipreading was a valuable skill she should really start learning as soon as she could. 

"Here you are Miss Lodge," Miss Bell said, scrawling numbers on a sheet of paper and handing it to Veronica, who took it rather glumly. "Now hurry up and get to class before the bell rings." Veronica nodded and mumbled her thanks, ducking out of the door and immediately sitting down on the closest bench she could right out of sight. 

Her next class was an art elective, completely skippable if she needed it to be, so Veronica just sat for a moment, leading her head back against the wall and closing her eyes as the bell rang and classrooms closed their doors. What exactly was she going to do? She was the only person who knew about this, and didn't know if it meant anything important. Except that the proximity between some secret, heated conversation between two teachers and Dilton's disappearance sent her teeth on edge. But she was only a student, and students didn't really have a lot of power to do much investigative work. 

"Veronica?" When she opened her eyes, Jughead Jones was staring down at her, clutching a folder thick with photographs in his hand. "What, did you already get sent to the office on delinquency charges on the second day of school?" There was a humorous glint in his gaze, and Veronica rolled her eyes as he sat down next to her, shrugging off his backpack. 

"No," she shot back. "Did you?" 

"Nope," Jughead said, popping the _p_ as he did. "But then that does beg the question, why aren't you in class?" 

"God, you sound like Miss Bell," Veronica groaned, and Jughead chuckled slightly. "I was, uh..." She brushed hair back from her face, slightly sheepish. "I guess you could call it sleuthing." Jughead looked at her askance. 

"Sleuthing?" Veronica nodded. "Well, what were you sleuthing for?" She swallowed a sudden prick of paranoia, reminding herself that this was high school, not something on par with, like, the Illuminati. 

"Last week, before school started, I saw Mr. Weatherbee and Miss Grundy," she said. Jughead's eyes widened briefly, before his nose wrinkled. 

"What, you mean, like...?" Jughead twisted his hands together in vaguely suggestive motions, and Veronica felt her nose wrinkle too, before smacking him lightly in the shoulder. 

"Ew! God, no!" She shuddered, and Jughead nodded, looking relieved. "That's disgusting, Jughead, _no_." 

"Just asking!" 

"Anyway," Veronica continued with a wave of her hand. "They were at Sweetwater River and they were talking about...I don't even know what it was, but it was very serious and intense. And I didn't even know they were teachers at first, but then school started, and with everything that happened with Dilton..." Veronica's voice trailed off, and when she looked over at Jughead again, he was biting down on his lip. "Weird, right?" 

"That's really weird," he agreed, fiddling with the edge of his folder. "So that's what you were sleuthing?" Veronica nodded. 

"Pretty much," she sighed. "Not that I got much. Or really anything. The last big 'break in the case', as it were, was finding out that those two creepy adults by Sweetwater River were apparently working at Riverdale High." Jughead hummed noncommittally, nodding his head. "I'm not making this up, you know," she added, feeling an edge of defensiveness creep into her tone. 

"No, I believe you," Jughead said hurriedly. "That's just really disconcerting, for one." Veronica nodded her agreement. "And I was just thinking about my own sleuthing and its similar dismal results." 

"Well, what were _you_ sleuthing for?" Veronica asked, cocking an eyebrow. Jughead sighed heavily, and his shoulders seemed to slump as if he were carrying an impossible weight. 

"Do you know Toni Topaz?" he asked. The name sounded familiar, but kept on slipping away when Veronica tried to put her hands on it. 

"I think?" 

"Pink hair, takes a lot of pictures," he added, and she snapped her fingers. 

"Yup! Yeah, she seems all right." Veronica gestured to the folder full of photographs on Jughead's lap. "Are those her's, in there?" Jughead nodded, and opened the folder. 

They were beautiful, glossy things, and Veronica would have thought they were professional, except that she recognized the golden light cast by the fire, the river's edge, the students of Riverdale High. And she knew that there had been no professional photographers around the night of the party at Sweetwater River. 

"She took a bunch of these the night of Cheryl's party," he explained, trying to fan some of them out as best he could on his lap, staring at them intently. "And, well..." Veronica moved closer to Jughead to see better. 

"Oh my God," she breathed out, pointing at one of the pictures, at a figure lurking in the background. "Is that _Dilton_?" 

"Yeah," Jughead said with a nod, shuffling some of the pictures around. "Toni and I figured out that there's, like, ten pictures where Dilton's in the background and then he drops off. We just can't figure out when, so I've been going around to everyone I remember there and see if they can place the time these were taken. Just to see if we can figure out a timeline of when exactly we know he went into the woods." Veronica shivered. 

"May I?" Jughead nodded, and she started rifling through the pictures herself. Sure enough, there was Dilton, just kind of floating in the background. It was eerie, like Veronica had left Riverdale and was suddenly at Camp Crystal Lake, or some such place. 

"You know, as long as I have you right now," Jughead began, leaning down to dig through his backpack. 

"Do I know the time I last saw Dilton?" Veronica guessed. Jughead paused slightly, and looked at her.

"I mean, do you?" he asked. "Like, even as good as within a half hour or something?" Veronica shook her head. 

"Sorry, I don't," she said, still staring at an almost mesmerizing picture of Dilton on the edge of the fire, features slightly warped by the heat, partially obscured by the foreground figures of Ben Button and Jason Blossom. "Wish I could tell you more, but at least you can cross me off your list." 

"Will do," Jughead said, continuing to root around in his things. "But I was actually going to tell you - ah, here it is," and he took out another picture, before handing it to her. "Toni took this picture of you and I was with her while she was developing. Thought you might like it." Veronica took it and turned it over, realizing it was the one Toni had taken when she'd just arrived and had been busy staring up at the constellations, much brighter at Sweetwater River than they'd ever been in New York City. 

"Jughead," she murmured, still staring at the picture for a moment. When she glanced at him, his pale cheeks were tinged a splotchy pink, and he was steadfastly avoiding her eyes. "Thank you," Veronica said sincerely. "I mean, I know you didn't take it," she added, feeling her own eyes slide away from him. "But still, thanks for giving it to me, especially if Toni wanted it for her portfolio or something. It's beautifully shot." 

"No problem," Jughead muttered, reaching over to take the Dilton pictures from her. Veronica let him. "And don't worry, Toni definitely has enough to get an internship with National Geographic if she wanted even if I've taken a couple." Veronica nodded, and carefully tucked her picture back into her own bag. 

"So, we're both just kind of wandering around, lost in our respective mysteries, huh?" Jughead nodded, trying to tuck some wayward strands of dark hair back into his beanie. 

"Two confused kids," he muttered darkly. "You know what's weird though?" 

"What?" 

"You saw Miss Grundy and Principal Weatherbee at Sweetwater River, and Dilton disappeared at Sweetwater River." Again, Veronica shivered, and even Jughead looked chilled by his own revelation. "I mean, it might not mean anything, but it's some strange coincidence." 

"It's creepy," Veronica agreed. She suddenly felt profoundly disturbed. The idea that maybe this wasn't just her head being weird, that there might be some actual connection between what she'd seen at the river and the incident at Cheryl's party, was too unbelievably strange to try and deal with all in one go. Intriguing, of course, and maybe there was a way solving one issue could solve the other, but more than anything she felt creeped out. 

Veronica took a deep breath, running her hands through her hair before gathering her things, including the superfluous piece of paper with the locker combination she didn't need. 

"We should probably at least get a little bit away from here before Miss Bell spots us and has an aneurysm," she said. Jughead chuckled again, and stood, with Veronica following suit. "Good luck with your sleuthing, Jughead." He nodded, before heading off down the hall, taking care to check whether Miss Bell was occupied before passing by the administration offices. 

Veronica went in the opposite direction, and for a moment felt as if eyes were burning a hole in her back, not unfriendly but definitely intense. She only just resisted the urge to look back herself. 

* * *

It had sounded hokey, explaining it to Miss Grundy and Josie McCoy earlier that day, but Archie really had needed football. The tryout had been grueling, just like Jason Blossom had warned when he'd first pitched him on the idea, but nothing but the running and throwing and catching, the sweat and burn of exercise in his muscles had blotted out everything extraneous in his mind, leaving nothing but remembering which way to move and to not get knocked flat on his ass. 

Archie removed his helmet, taking in deep clean lungfuls of air and drinking deep from his water bottle. His hair was damp with sweat, and it felt like there wasn't any inch of exposed skin that wasn't covered in dirt and grass blades, but it felt good. Right, almost. As he drank, Archie scanned the field, fighting the cramp of nervousness in his stomach. 

Coach Clayton had told all the boys trying out to prep with pushups and situps and all other kinds of ups, do a run around the track, and then had them do drills, run the passes he told them to, and now they were finally given a break. And now, Coach Clayton was going around talking to the newbies trying out. With some, he looked optimistic. With others, not so much. Archie knew that this was likely Coach Clayton thinning the herd, and he was apprehensive for when his turn arrived. 

"Andrews." When Archie turned, Jason Blossom was there, in his number nine jersey, with Reggie a little ways off, chugging a gatorade. 

"Jason," Archie said, wiping his mouth. Jason slapped him on the back genially with a robust laugh. 

"You did good out there, kid," he said, gesturing to the football field. 

"We're the same age," Archie pointed out, and Jason laughed again, waving Archie's comment away with a swift flick of his hand. 

"Seriously, don't worry about any of the other formalities," Jason told him, nodding to where Coach Clayton was having an apparently stern talk to a rather dejected looking sophomore. Archie's stomach flipped. "In my official capacity as captain, I'm saying that you completely nailed it. No sweat about it." Jason's eyes were very blue, where they were peering at him, and for a moment Archie felt disconcerted. 

"Um, thanks," he said, glancing over at Reggie. Generally nothing but handsome and happy go lucky, for a moment Reggie had an odd look of consternation on his face, as if Jason's praise for Archie was bothering him, somehow. Archie didn't have much time to focus on it, given that Coach Clayton was now walking over in his direction and Jason seemed to melt away with another laugh. Archie's stomach flipped. 

"Andrews!" he barked. Archie jogged over dutifully. 

"Yeah Coach?" Clayton, unfortunately, had one of those faces where you couldn't really tell what he was thinking or even what mood he was in. Given the current circumstances, this was of particular concern. 

"You had a good performance, Andrews," Coach Clayton said, and Archie had to fight to make sure he didn't break out into too wide a grin. "Solid form, and you've got the right build for football too, which is impressive." 

"Just worked for my dad over the summer," Archie mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Coach Clayton hummed. 

"Well, I still haven't made any final decisions, but this was a good start," he said, and once again Archie found himself forcing down a big smile. "And if you keep this up, we might end up changing our team roster, giving you a better position for the season." Clayton walked off after Archie nodded, and once his back was turned he immediately punched his fist in the air, forgetting for a moment that there were other people around who might see this embarrassing display of enthusiasm. 

Things really were looking up Archie. And as he took another swig from his water bottle, Archie was so caught up in his euphoria that he didn't notice that Reggie had been watching the whole exchange between him and Coach Clayton, looking more than a little perturbed at Archie's acceptance onto the team. 

* * *

" _We're Blue! And Gold!_ " 

Betty was making sure to follow Veronica's lead, given that the only real time they'd had to practice before River Vixens auditions had been the lunch period, out behind the outdoor bleachers, and she didn't want to mess anything up. So far, so good. Appleyard looked rather approving as they continued Veronica's choreography, and Cheryl's expression had changed from stunned surprise to a sly sort of appreciation. Betty had avoided looking at Polly, as she quite liked not bursting into flames through the force of her anger. 

There had, technically, been a sign up sheet on one of the billboards for the tryouts, with a handy little column for putting down the name of anyone who had convinced you to sign up. So far, it looked like things were pretty evenly matched between Polly and Cheryl, but Betty hadn't wanted to telegraph that she was doing Cheryl Blossom a solid at the expense of her own sister. Fortunately, as she'd explained to Veronica, River Vixens were technically required to hold open auditions, and anyone who wanted to try out could waltz into the gym and do just that. 

Which was what they had exploited when they'd come into the gym this afternoon, telling Coach Appleyard that they hadn't been able to figure out where the sign up sheet was and asking if they could still try out. Appleyard had agreed, with Cheryl still gaping like a fish where she stood with her minions as Ginger Lopez and Tina Patel had handed them two sets of pompoms. It did give Betty a hint of satisfaction. 

" _Whoo! Go Bulldogs!_ " Veronica crowed as they finished, and there was indeed a smattering of applause across the gym. Betty steadied her breath, holding her pose and hoping that Appleyard's presence meant there'd be a lack of clever insults involved in whatever would come next. And thankfully, it was Appleyard who stepped forward as Veronica and Betty handed their pompoms back. 

"That was good," she said appreciatively. "Did you both design the choreography?" 

"That was Veronica," Betty said quickly, and saw the other girl duck her head as if in embarrassment. "All her." 

"Well, Betty's a very quick steady," Veronica interjected. "A fairly good quality for a River Vixen, isn't it?" Appleyard smothered a laugh behind her palm. 

"It would seem that way," she said, before straightening her spine. "Well, girls, I think it's safe to say that you've made the cut. Before you get your uniforms, would you both mind answering a couple questions?" Betty fought the urge to grin. 

" _There's a way we can get this without dealing with Cheryl being insufferably smug, and without handing the reins of power to your sister,_ " Veronica had said, with a glint in her dark eyes, and Betty had smiled back, unrestrained and ready. 

"Sure thing, Coach Appleyard," she said sweetly, reaching up to tighten her blond ponytail. 

"Did anyone ask you to join the team, or try and sweet talk you into it?" Appleyard asked. "It's not bad or disqualifying if they did, and no one would get into trouble, but I'm curious." 

"No one told or asked us to do anything," Betty said simply. "But I saw Cheryl Blossom helping out some freshmen who were looking for after school activities so they could get friends, and she sounded so enamored with cheerleading that I just thought, why not?" 

"I saw her doing some practice warmups around lunchtime," Veronica added, lying through her teeth so smoothly Betty would have believed it if she hadn't been there herself to know it was a lie. "That amount of dedication is infectious. Wouldn't you agree, Betty?" 

"Totally," she said with a nod, and Appleyard smiled at them. 

"Duly noted," she said, before walking off to scribble something in her clipboard. Cheryl replaced her almost immediately, holding two blue dresses accented with white and gold, and two close fitting white shirts. 

"I guessed on sizes," she admitted, handing one outfit to Veronica and another to Betty. Betty felt a thrum of excitement when she took it. Which might have been stupid of her, but she couldn't help it. "You know, with what you both said to Appleyard, I think that puts me over the top," she added. Veronica looked at Betty and smiled wide. 

"Congratulations," she said, turning back to Cheryl. Betty nodded her agreement, and Cheryl looked over at both of them, brown eyes for once guileless and nothing but warm. 

"Thanks, you guys," she said. It was the first time Betty had ever really heard her sound sincere. "That was actually kind of cool, what you did." 

"Don't worry about it," Veronica said airily. "Anything to help balance the scales of high school." Cheryl nodded. 

"Well, thanks anyway." 

"No problem, Cheryl," Betty said, almost impulsively. For once, Cheryl wasn't looking at her mockingly, just thoroughly neutral, before turning back around, red hair nearly whipping Betty in the face, and walking back over to her flock of girls. 

Betty turned to Veronica and, suddenly seized by the wind, wrapped her arms around her in a quick. Veronica hugged back, clearly somewhat surprised. 

"Omigod, it worked!" Betty said jubilantly. "That was amazing!" Veronica flipped her hair, mock proud, and Betty choked down a giggle. 

"Well, we are stunning actresses," she said with a smile, and the last vestiges of any _"what is having her back going to be like?"_ nerves finally fled from Betty, leaving only that same feeling of friendship she'd had for nearly their entire childhoods. "I'm going to go make a costume change," Veronica added, holding up her uniform. "You coming?" 

"Right behind you." And Betty would have indeed been right behind her if someone hadn't grabbed her arm in a vice like grip, yanking her back. When Betty turned, she was legitimately surprised to see that steam wasn't pouring out of Polly's ears and over her blue headband. 

"What the Hell, Betty?" she hissed, briefly glaring at where Coach Appleyard and Cheryl were talking. Cheryl's red lips were spread wide in a triumphant smile. "It's my senior year, my last chance to be captain! Why would you ruin that for me?" Betty wrenched her arm out of Polly's grip, feeling a surge of anger. 

"Not everything's about you, Pol," she snapped. "And Cheryl was actually more dedicated in making sure my friends and I were trying out, so if you didn't put in the work for Appleyard's contest, that's on you." Polly rolled her eyes. 

"I had seniority, I would have been a shoe in without this stupid contest," she said. "Seriously Betty, that was a real bitch move." 

Betty had spent the past year biting her tongue, all those dinners at the table trying so hard to be polite even when things were frosty, trying not to bust into Polly's room and scream at her, had even thought about burying the hatchet once or twice. But the pressure of the anger that had been building since sophomore year, steadily and surely, finally exploded, letting a wave of it wash over her. 

"Bitch move?!" Betty struggled to keep her voice down and avoid attracting the attention of everyone in the gym. "Some might say that _stealing my boyfriend_ was a bitch move, Polly!" Polly scoffed, tossing her hair. 

"Are you joking, Betty?" she demanded. "Jason was hardly your boyfriend-" 

"I don't care, Pol!" Betty said, still trying to make sure she wasn't shouting. "I liked him! He liked me! We even went out on some freaking dates! And you just waltzed in and took him because you knew that you could, when you didn't care about him at all until he kissed _me_!" 

"That's-" 

"I don't want to hear it!" Betty spat. "You've done this my whole life, Polly! You take what I have, what I want, just because _I_ want it, and you've never once apologized for doing it! Not even after Jason, and I'm sick of it!" She took a steadying breath. "And now that he's dumped you on your ass because he saw what a snake you are, maybe spend less time worrying about me and my life, and maybe try asking your new captain whose foot your back is going to be steadying at the bottom of the pyramid." 

Polly gaped at her, face flushed with anger, and Betty whirled around, stalking out through the doors of the gym into the locker rooms, throwing her things down on a bench next to where Veronica was lacing up her shoes. _Maybe this would finally knock Polly down a peg or two_ , she thought bitterly, clenching her fists tightly. 

"Everything OK?" Veronica asked, looking at her askance. Betty took another deep breath, and started unfolding her uniform. Better to focus on today's win rather than her crazy sister. 

"Yeah," she said, slipping off her ballet flats. "Don't worry V, everything's fine."

* * *

_With Veronica's revelation about Principal Weatherbee and Miss Grundy, that made it two unknowable secrets now, blanketing Riverdale like a thin layer of winter fog. What did all this mean? What answers were we missing? And what did it bode for all of us, the students of Riverdale High, that our teachers were having clandestine rendezvous, and we were now one compatriot smaller? How would we hope to break through that fog and find the revealing sunlight? All we knew was that one of our own was missing, and that he might have been shot, might have been dead. I don't know a single one of us who was able to sleep soundly with the fact in our minds, even while going through the typical motions of a first week of school._

"Did you find anything?" Toni asked. Jughead sighed, pressing Save on his document and closing his laptop as Toni flopped down opposite to him on a table out on the quad. It was still, thankfully, just warm enough to actually hang around outside, though he knew that the nip of fall would be coming any day now. 

"Nothing," Jughead said dejectedly, shoving his laptop in his bag and taking out the folder with Toni's pictures. 

He had thought that maybe continuing in the WordDoc he'd started the morning he'd come home from Sweetwater River, after Dilton had gone missing, would make something click in his brain. He'd been writing steadily for a week, starting with that night he and Veronica had spent at _Pop's_ and going through everything he knew ever since. That would definitely be more useful than some long winded letter to his deadbeat dad. 

Unfortunately for Jughead, it wasn't doing much for him. And neither were his amateur detective skills. 

"Damn," Toni said, raking a hand through her pink striped hair. "Not gonna lie, I was kind of hoping I'd get these pictures back along with a big explanation that ties everything up in a neat little bow." 

"You're not alone in that." Jughead sighed, propping his chin up on his hand. He suddenly felt very tired. "Unfortunately, I'm a high schooler. And people aren't willing to just spill all their deepest secrets to some random high schooler, especially me." Not that Dilton ran in any super popular crowd, but if he'd even gone up to anyone on the football team or basketball team or even the Aquaholics, it would have been a surefire road to an ass-kicking. 

"Damn," Toni said again. 

"Not to mention..." Jughead bit down on his lip for a moment. Veronica had told him what she'd seen at Sweetwater River in confidence, and he didn't want to betray that confidence, not by a long shot. But Toni was his partner in crime, the only other person who was as weirded out by the way nothing was getting done about Dilton, as far as he knew. 

"What?" 

"I think this goes a lot deeper than what we can figure out on our own," is what he finally settled on. "You know, given that we are, again, freaking high schoolers with the exact same amount of resources that most high schoolers tend to have." 

"Yeah," Toni said with a sigh of her own. "Would honestly kill to have the resources of the sheriff's department, or even the _Riverdale Register_. Not that they're doing anything with it." Jughead nodded, for a moment only half paying attention to what she was saying, still caught up in his own thoughts on the secrets swirling Riverdale, more than he'd originally thought, apparently. 

And then the words _Riverdale Register_ hit his brain. 

"Oh my god," he murmured, straightening up suddenly as if he'd been shot. 

"What?" Toni looked up at him in mild surprise. Jughead could almost kiss her. 

"Toni, you're a genius!" he cried out, immediately shoving everything he could in his bag, trying to figure out if it was better to go directly to the teacher in charge of the student editor. 

"I am?" Toni asked, watching as he grabbed everything he'd strewn all over the table and attempted to get it back in its place. 

"The _Riverdale Register_ ," he explained. "When you said that, it clicked. Newspapers have the ability to gather information like nobody's business, even compared to the police. Sometimes they're even better at getting information than the police!" 

"So you want to, what?" Toni asked, eyeing him skeptically. "Skip over to the _Register_ and demand that we get some non-existent student internship so we can investigate without impunity? How would that work?" 

"Not the _Register_ ," Jughead explained. "But we don't need a student internship when we have a student paper." Toni's eyes widened with comprehension. "So if we can get in with the _Blue and Gold_ here at school-" 

"We can keep on looking into this without someone calling the cops for stalking or saying we're weirdos," Toni finished. "You're right Jughead, that's genius!" Jughead couldn't help but smile slightly at that. "Do you know who's the faculty member in charge of the _Blue and Gold_?"

"No," he admitted. "But I know who the student editor is this year, and-" No sooner had he started talking did Jughead see said student editor in question, blond ponytail tousled in the air as she moved to follow another girl over to what he could only assume was the football and track field. "Give me one second," Jughead said, before racing over, nearly tripping over his own two feet in doing so. "Betty!" 

"Jughead?" She stopped dutifully, waving her friend away and waiting for him to catch up. "Hey, what's up?" Jughead was momentarily stunned into silence when he realized she was wearing a cheerleading uniform. OK, Betty Cooper was a cheerleader now. That was new. 

"Are all the spots at the _Blue and Gold_ filled up this year?" he asked without preamble, still catching his breath. For a moment, Betty thought.

"No, I think we've still got three or four left," she said. "You want to join?" Jughead nodded. 

"Yeah, me and Toni Topaz, if that's all right," he said. "She's an awesome photographer, which would be good for the paper, and I can write articles and stuff." Betty examined him, and Jughead tried his best to look nothing but earnestly invested in student journalism. 

"I didn't realize you were such a big supporter of print journalism," she said. 

"Oh yeah, I'm big on buying local papers and paying a loyal _New York Times_ subscription and all that," he told her, and when she smiled at him he smiled back, hoping that was a good enough explanation. 

"I'll have to run it by the administration first, but I don't see why you can't, as long as you've got Thursday fourth period free." Jughead nodded. 

"Totally free." Betty smiled again. 

"Great!" she said happily. "I'll send an email when I get home, but I've got to go." She gestured over to where the dark haired girl, too far away for Jughead to see clearly, was waiting, also clad in a cheerleading uniform. 

"By all means," he said, taking a step back. "Thanks Betty, you're the best!" She waved goodbye to him before jogging to catch up with her friend, while Jughead turned back to see Toni standing back at their table with their stuff, looking at him with what he assumed was a quizzical expression. Jughead made sure to give her a triumphant thumbs up before heading back.

* * *

Four laps around the track equaled one mile, and Archie was profoundly grateful that he was just finishing up his fourth one. It wasn't generally something he struggled with, but he was still somewhat spent by today's earlier tryouts. But exhilarated as well. 

His new jersey and the rest of his gear was tucked away in his football bag, and when Archie changed into simple gym clothes to cool down, he couldn't help but stare at that golden 10 on its blue backdrop and feel a bizarre sense of accomplishment. Slowing his jog as he finally completed his fourth lap, Archie took a moment to stare up at the sky. It was a perfect blue, dotted with just a few fluffy white clouds, completely unperturbed by the world below. By this crazy summer, by what happened with Dilton, by the hectic lives of the students at Riverdale High. 

Archie sucked in a breath. He was going to take his win, and not dwell on the darker side of things. Not now, at least. 

"Arch!" He turned in the direction of his name, and saw Betty, clad in a River Vixens uniform, waving him over and accompanied by Veronica, also wearing that same River Vixens uniform. He jogged over quickly. 

"Betty, Ronnie, hey," he said, pushing red hair out of his eyes. "Nice outfit." Veronica smiled. 

"You, Teen Outlander, are now officially looking at two newly minted River Vixens," she said proudly, and Archie couldn't help but smile back. She'd always had something of an infectious smile. "Take a moment and bask." 

"Oh, I'm basking," he answered, and Veronica giggled. 

"How were football tryouts?" Betty asked, tightening her ponytail. "Did they go OK?" Archie glanced around for a moment, as if worried for eavesdroppers, and leaned in close, like he would if he were sharing a secret. Betty and Veronica leaned in too. 

"I got in," he said, grin wider, and both girls squealed in delight. 

"Arch, that's amazing!" Betty cried, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Like a reflex, Archie hugged her back. She must have gotten some new shampoo or something, because he detected the faintest scent of lavender. "I'm super happy for you," Betty said sincerely upon letting him go, and for a moment Archie felt the tips of his ears burn. 

"Thanks, Betty," he said, and moved to wrap an arm around Veronica too, before she put two hands up. 

"Too sweaty," she said, with an easy smile to make sure he didn't take it too personally. He didn't, he knew how fastidious Veronica had always been. "But congratulations, Archiekins. Did you figure out the music thing with Miss Grundy?" 

"Yeah," Archie said with a nod. "Mornings with them, afternoons with the Bulldogs, and probably weekends doing construction with my dad." 

"Quite the packed schedule," Veronica commented, and Archie nodded in agreement. But, amazingly, he didn't have it in his heart to complain about it. In fact, it felt almost perfect. 

"Where were you two at lunch?" he asked. "I was gonna tell you all about it and thank you guys for yesterday, instead Kevin and I ended up having a very illuminating chat on the merits of the _Twilight_ doing a reshowing of _Top Gun_ this weekend." Betty and Veronica shared a conspiratorial look. 

"It's a bit of a long story," Veronica began. 

"Oh boy." And despite his apparent sweatiness, Veronica had no problem swatting him in the shoulder. 

"Tell you guys what," Betty interjected. "Pop apparently got this amazing vintage soda fountain and you've got to be parched after football tryouts, Archie." She glanced first at Veronica, then back at him. "Why don't we all go over there before heading back home, now that school's over? It'll be fun." Veronica stared at Betty for a long moment, before meeting Archie's eyes and held his gaze. 

"I mean, I'm down if you are," she said simply, looking just the slightest bit apprehensive. Like she was waiting for him to say no. But Archie smiled and nodded. 

"Sounds awesome, Betty," he said appreciatively. "I just need to grab my backpack from my locker. You guys can come with and tell me all about your cheerleading scheme, if you want." The two girls looped their arms together, Betty rolling her eyes fondly at him, and what would have been unthinkable even six months ago happened with ease. 

The three of them set off, friendly and carefree as they'd ever been, chitchatting about their respective days, Veronica and Betty regaling them on their roundabout cheerleading plan. Archie must have laughed half a dozen times; only a Betty and Veronica team-up could result in trying out for something as banal as the River Vixens that way. 

_This might just be something of a perfect day_ , Archie thought, as he grabbed his backpack from his locker and they set off down the empty halls of the high school. _At least, as perfect a day could get in Riverdale right now_. 

"Ah, Sheriff Keller." They all three froze, having barely turned a corner when Principal Weatherbee exited the administrative complex, shaking hands with a grim looking Sheriff Keller. None of them moved; clearly neither Weatherbee nor Keller had spotted them. 

"Weatherbee," Sheriff Keller said evenly. Archie didn't know what Betty and Veronica were feeling, but he felt paralyzed. If he even tried moving backwards, maybe they would still notice the movement and look in their directions. Betty had grabbed his right arm as soon as Weatherbee spoke, and Veronica's nails were digging into his left. 

"Do you have any news?" Weatherbee asked, and looked stunned when Sheriff Keller shook his head. 

"We've called his house, we've asked around with his neighbors, and we must have knocked on his door for fifteen minutes," Sheriff Keller said. Archie hardly dared even breathe. What was this about? Dilton? 

"That's it?' Weatherbee asked, face dark. 

"That's what a wellness check entails, Weatherbee," Sheriff Keller told him sternly. "And that's what you asked for, that we conduct a wellness check on Mr. Svenson to see if everything was all right, and therefore that's what we did?" On his right, he heard Betty suck in a breath. Neither Weatherbee nor Sheriff Keller appeared to have heard it. 

"Nothing?" Weatherbee asked, and Sheriff Keller shook his head again. 

"And I assume he hasn't yet shown up to work," he said. It was Weatherbee's turn to shake his head, face still dark but more with worry than with anger as it had previously been. 

"Not since we started preparing for the students to return," he said gloomily. "Janitorial work is important during that time, and now that he's nowhere to be found..." Weatherbee's voice trailed off, and he sighed heavily. "I'm worried," he admitted. Sheriff Keller still looked grim. 

"So am I," he admitted. "What kind of man just vanishes into thin air with no explanation?" 

"Oh my God," Veronica breathed, barely above a murmur. 

Archie felt as if he was under a giant wave, water roaring in his ears. He struggled to manage his breathing and not looking like a complete lunatic, but he assumed that his face had been drained of all blood. He turned, for a reason he still didn't know, maybe to see how Betty was reacting, but his eyes caught the sign on the door just beyond her: **JANITORIAL CLOSET**. Archie inhaled as steadily as he could. If Mr. Svenson was missing...Like Dilton was missing...

He'd been holding his secret from this summer, his secret with Svenson, close to his chest for weeks now, and he knew it was eating him alive. But if he told people what he knew, which appeared to be more than what both the faculty and the police knew, what might he be dragging himself into? Archie's thoughts swirled in his head. All he knew was one thing: whatever the outcome was, Archie likely wasn't going to enjoy it. 


End file.
